Big Lie, Small World
by JoMarchWrites
Summary: Some people say that it's a small world, people and things that seem so vastly different and miles apart are bound and connected. When lies and secrets are unearthed during a challenging investigation, they change the lives of the members of the Special Victims Unit, unearthing deeper demons that may cause irrevocable damage. The only thing guaranteed to survive is the truth. (EO)
1. Chapter 1

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Squad Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan

"You two! My office! Now!"

Olivia shot her partner a perplexed look, slowly rising out of her seat. These were words they heard at least twice a week, and usually they were prepared with a defensive excuse for their actions, but this time, they had no idea what sort of trouble they'd caused. Elliot moved in front of her, his way of shielding her and being the first to take the proverbial fall. Olivia didn't mind. Her eyes landed on his perfect ass, a small smirk gracing her lips as she followed him through Cragen's open door. She cleared her throat and her expression changed to one of worry and discourse when she heard the door slam behind her.

"Do you two think I'm an idiot?" Cragen asked, stepping boldly back behind his desk and folding his arms. He looked at the pair expectantly.

Elliot shot Olivia a look, ran his tongue over his teeth, and turned back toward Cragen. "What the hell did we do?" he asked, squinting slightly.

Cragen pointed to each one of them, his eyes wide and fiery. "This! You! When did it start, and when's it gonna stop?"

"Excuse me?" Olivia uttered, offended. Her eyes were narrow and her lips were formed into a flat smile. "Captain, if you're accusing us of having an..."

"Someone saw you!" Cragen yelled. "If you two are gonna stand there and deny this..."

"He's married!" Olivia yelled. "I don't care how close we are, how hot he is, or how I fucking feel about him, I have more goddamn self-respect than that! You really think I would jeopardize my job, destroy his family..."

Cragen cut her off, the rage in his eyes replaced by confusion and disbelief. "So you're not...why would...she lied?"

"Who?" Elliot asked, his jaw tight and his entire body rigid. "Who the hell would even fucking dare..."

"Don't...don't worry about it," Cragen sighed, his hand rubbing against the grain of his forehead. "Shit, I...I'm sorry, I just...I know there's something there...it was easy to believe..." he stammered. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look up at them. "You're on each other's personnel files in places that...well, this just made so much sense in my head."

"How about, net time you think you know what's going on in our lives, you fucking ask before dragging us in here, yelling about nothing, and making me feel like shit!" She shook her head at him. "You really think I would do that? Be his affair?"

Cragen looked into her eyes, and with serious firmness, he said, "Yeah, Olivia. I do. But I know...the reasons behind it would be...more honorable than the usual..."

"Save it," she snapped at him, she glared at him for a moment, and her nostrils flared. "Are we done?"

With his lip caught between her teeth, she nodded, turned on her heels, and bolted from the room.

Elliot narrowed his eyes a bit more as he stepped forward, finally letting his arms drop back down to his sides. "For the record," he said, his voice low and filled with venom, "I would never make her the other woman. If anything ever did happen between me and Liv, I'd make damn sure I was single, and in a position where I could be the kinda guy she fucking deserves. So she may fell like shit because you think so little of her, but, for fuck's sake, how could you think that little of me?" He shook his head in disgust, and then followed the same path that Olivia had taken, closing the door behind him. He stepped out into the squad room and looked around for a moment, spotting Olivia near the coffee pot. He walked over, his eyes focusing on her shaking hands. He grabbed her cup and the pot, and he finished pouring for her. "What the hell was that?"

"Shit," she seethed, "You know I didn't mean..."

"No, I know why you said...what you said," he told her, catching her eyes as he tore open two packets of yellow sweetener. He shook them into her cup and reached for the creamer, still looking at her. "I just...who the fuck told him we were..."

"I have no fucking idea," she spat. She looked down, seeing him holding out her fixed cup of coffee. She smiled slightly at him, loving how he never had to be asked, he always just did things like this for her. She took the cup from him, nodding gratefully at him, and she let out a slow breath. "I really don't know."

He grinned at her. "What amazes me...is that he said he knows that we're listed on forms and shit...which, I mean, we have been since day one, but he couldn't have read those records recently." He began making himself a cup of coffee, licking his lips as he watched her take a sip from her cup.

Swallowing, she hummed. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, for one thing," he said to her with a small shrug. "If he'd had his hands on our files, at all, within the last six months, he'd know about the..."

"Benson, Stabler," Cragen's voice interrupted their conversation. "Here," he said, holding out a small, pink sheet of paper. "Body on Riverside Avenue. Warner's on her way, meet her there. And, uh, I'm sorry. Really."

Elliot chugged his coffee, he grimaced as he threw the empty cup in the trash can next to the table, and he nodded curtly at Cragen as he took the paper from him. He looked over his shoulder, at Olivia, scraping his teeth along his bottom lip. "Ready?"

She took the last, long gulp of her coffee, threw her cup in the trash on top of his, and nodded. She grabbed her coat off of the back of her chair and the keys off of Elliot's desk, ignoring Cragen's apologetic face as she walked in step with Elliot, out of the room, and into the hallway.

Outside the West End Apartments, Riverside Drive, NY

"What's up, Doc?" Elliot quipped, stepping under a strip of yellow crime-scene tape. He stopped, turned, and held it up as he watched Olivia bend and walk under it.

Melinda Warner curled her neck up and looked over her shoulder. "That's getting old, Stabler," she retorted.

Elliot shrugged and grinned. "So are you," he said, and then took three steps over to her. He gave her a small pat on her navy blue windbreaker. "Just kidding."

With narrow, unamused eyes, she placed her hands on her bent knees and shook her head at him before turning her attention toward Olivia. "You deal with this all day?"

"And all night," she said, feigning annoyance. "What have we got?"

"Middle-aged woman, left out here completely naked, covered in cuts and bruises," Warner rattled. "Obvious signs of sexual assault." She looked back down at the sheet-covered body before her, and she took hold of the plastic with two fingers. Lifting it, she shifted to one side, allowing the detectives a clear view of the corpse. "She's in full rigor, so I'm putting TOD somewhere between two-thirty and four-in-the-morning, yesterday. Cleaning lady who called it in said she wasn't hear last night, so this is..."

"Body dump," Elliot said, nodding once. "You got a cause of..."

"Her throat's been sliced, ear-to-ear, pretty deep," Warner said, cutting him off. "She's got severe wounds, around her wrists and ankles, and band-shaped marks spreading across her chest. Blood pooling on her back tells me wherever she was killed, she wasn't moved. Not until they took her here."

Olivia cringed. "She was restrained," she almost whispered. "We got an ID?"

Melinda pursed her lips, lowered her eyelids a bit, and tilted her head. "The bastard didn't leave her wallet next to her body," she said with a bit more sass than necessary. "I'll send her prints back to you when I get her back to my lab."

Elliot rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Doc," he said. "Let us know what else you get, as soon as you get it." He watched Melinda drop the plastic back over the body, and then guided Olivia into the building. "We should start with the front desk, ask if they saw anything, ask for security tapes..."

"Yeah," Olivia said, a harsh whisper.

"You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." He gripped her shoulder and squeezed, concern in his eyes and a faster thumping in his chest. "What happened?"

She dragged her teeth over her lower lip slowly, capturing the edge of it in a tighter bite. "You saw that woman, El," she said. "She looked like..."

"Oh, Liv," he breathed, running his hand down her arm. "You gonna be able to handle this?"

She nodded, swallowing hard, and she looked up into his eyes. The blue of them seemed to calm her, soothe her. She offered him a smile and a small laugh. "How do you do that?"

"What?" he asked her, the question mark clear on his face.

"You have this way of just...making all my problems go away," she told him. With a chuckle, she added, "Which in itself could be a pretty big problem."

His grin turned into a sly smirk and he leaned closer to her. "Not a problem," he whispered with a wink. "You do the same for me, you know that." He held her gaze for a moment, and then, as if suddenly remembering where they were, he cleared his throat and backed up a bit. "It's, uh, you know...what we do."

She smiled, brushing the hair out of her eyes, and moved with him toward the lobby's front desk. She pulled her badge out of the clip on her hip, raised it up a bit, and spoke to a young man behind the counter, who was typing something into a computer. "Excuse me," she said, hoping to get his attention.

The man ignored her, continuing his quick-clicking of keys.

"Hey!" she shouted, slapping a hand on the desk.

The man finally lifted his head, and with a roll of his eyes, he said, "Obviously, Ma'am, I'm busy." He froze, though, when he saw her badge, and he shrunk down a bit, looking at her sheepishly. "Busy...helping you, Officer."

She scoffed. "Detective," she corrected. "Benson, NYPD," she pointed to Elliot. "My partner, Detective Stabler."

"Detectives?" the clerk queried. "What, uh, how...how can help you?"

Elliot rested an arm on the counter and leaned in, a rather severe look on his face. "What can you tell us about what happened outside." He raised one eyebrow. "A cleaning lady called it in, but, I'm assuming, you've been here for a while? You see anything?"

The young man went white. "No," he choked out. "I clocked in a few hours ago, the cops were already here, and I..." he swallowed and closed his eyes. trying not to be sick. "That poor woman."

Elliot saw his face take on a green-tinge, and he held back a chuckle as he said, "So, you saw her?"

"Well, yeah," the young man nodded. "She was just laying there, in front of the building, I didn't...I mean, it wasn't like I stood there staring, but I couldn't really miss her."

"Do you know who she is?" Olivia asked. "Does she live in the building?"

"No, Detective," the clerk said, shaking his head, making his shaggy blonde hair fall into his eyes. "No...I've never seen her before, and that...that was a really shitty way to meet her.

"You have security cameras out front, right?" Elliot asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, pointing toward the door.

"Yes, sir," the clerk told him. "Two. One facing the door, one facing the street."

"We're going to need the tapes," Olivia said, clipping her badge back where it belonged.

The young man bit his lip. "Um...what tapes?"

Elliot looked at Olivia, and then back at the clerk. "The tapes. The recordings...from the cameras?"

"We don't have tapes. It's a digital program. It's a live-feed, but we store a week's worth on the server." He returned to his computer, typed quickly again for a moment, and then handed Olivia a small UBS drive. "This is everything from the last forty-eight hours."

"Wow," Olivia said, surprised. "Thank you."

"Yeah, sure," the clerk said. "I just...I know this is going to sound weird, but, uh, when you find out who she is, would you...come tell me?" He scratched the back of his with his long, skinny fingers. "I want to send the family a card, or flowers, or something. That's somebody's mother out there, and...no one deserves to go out like that."

Elliot nodded. "Sure, kid," he said, leaning over to look at his name tag. "Brian. Brian what?"

"Danielson," the clerk said. "I'm...I'm always here..." he looked up toward the ceiling. "I live on the fifth floor."

"We'll be in touch," Olivia said, handing him one of her cards. "If you can think of anything else you can tell us, give me a call."

Brian Danielson nodded, and then watched the two detectives head over to a couple of uniformed cops in the corner. He put Olivia's card in his pocket, let out a slow breath, and went back to his computer. He smirked. The video he posted already had over a thousand views, and the count was climbing. He chuckled as he mumbled to himself, "This is gonna make me famous."

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Squad Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan

"When did you find this?" Elliot asked, horrified as he watched the video play again. He grimaced as he looked away from the computer, catching Olivia's pained eyes. His heart sank, and for a moment, he wished he could shield her from the terrors of the job. "Liv, let's see if Morales can trace this piece of..."

"Already called him," she mumbled quickly, her eyes glued to the computer screen and her thumbnail caught between her teeth. "He's working on it."

As discreetly as he could, he ran his hand in small circles on her lower back, hidden from view by her chair. "Stop watching this," he whispered. "Once was enough, you know you don't..."

"I don't want to miss anything," she interrupted him again. "There's got to be something..."

"If I don't get a raise because of this, I quit!" Morales from the technical response unit burst into the room, cutting off the rest of Olivia's words. "The user who uploaded the video...TheWatcher59...I got his name, address, and upload history. This isn't his first time at the rodeo." He pushed his way in between Munch and Elliot, grabbed the mouse, and began to point and click as he typed into a search engine. He gave a triumphant yelp and held both hands out to the monitor. "See?"

"Son-of-a-bitch," Elliot hissed, scanning the list of uploaded videos on the screen. "Every one of these is either footage of a crime scene, some of 'em are in-progress, who the hell is this hump?"

Morales, looked at him and handed him a sheet of paper. "Here," he said.

Elliot's eyes widened, and then narrowed. "Liv," he said, sliding the paper in front of her. "Mother fucker lied to us."

Olivia scoffed as she read the name and the address, and she looked at Elliot. "Why am I not surprised?"

"You're jaded," he said bitterly. "Like me." He slapped her on the shoulder lightly. "Let's go." He waited for her to stand, handed her jacket to her, and gave her a small wink and a smile.

She returned his lighthearted grin, and then moved in step with him. They were almost to the door when Cragen stopped them. Together, their heads turned, and they waited with slight contempt in their eyes. The conversation from earlier that morning had left wounds, some caused by what was said, and some caused by what wasn't."

"I, uh, just wanted to tell you again...before you go...I'm sorry." Cragen nodded once at them. "I can admit when I'm wrong, and, uh, I guess I was misinformed." He looked down and dismissed them with a wave of his hand, and turned to focus on the still-looping video of their victim being dragged down the street and left on the sidewalk in front of the West End Apartments.

West End Apartments, 5D, Riverside Drive, NY

"Danielson, NYPD, open up!" Olivia yelled, pounding on the door with the side of her fist. "You knew we'd come back!" She stepped back, hearing the chain-lock slide and jingle, and both she and Elliot readied their guns.

The door opened, and Brian Danielson stood in front of it, wearing nothing but a pair of striped boxers and a smug grin. "Afternoon, Detective," he said, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "I was hoping to see you again. You know, if your pal here wanted to leave you with me, I'd, uh, take good care of you."

With a furrowed brow, Olivia looked at Elliot. "Is this kid for real?"

"He keeps it up he won't be real at all anymore," Elliot said, his jaw tight and his teeth clenched. He rolled his neck and stretched a bit, and then addressed Danielson. "We need to ask you a few more questions. You need to put some clothes on, and you need to come with us."

"No," Danielson said, squinting and turning his lips up. "I don't think I do. I told you everything I know about..."

"You're 'TheWatcher,'" Olivia said, silencing him. "Fifty-nine? What does that mean?"

Danielson's face went white. He backed away from the door, shaking his head. "That's supposed to be anonymous. How the hell did you find out that was me?"

Elliot smirked. "We're detectives," he said with a shrug. "It's what we do. Now, we're being nice, here, letting you put some clothes on, but if you'd rather come down to the station in your skivvys, I have no problem dragging your ass down there right now."

Danielson nodded, then left the door open as he moved to the side to pull on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. He grabbed his jacket and looked at Elliot, and then at Olivia. "Honestly, I just uploaded footage from the security camera. It's nothing I didn't give you, and no one got hurt by..."

"No one got hurt?" Olivia spat, disbelieving. "That woman's family may have seen that! That's someone's mother, and you plastered pictures of her naked, broken, dead body all over the internet!" She grabbed his arm and yanked him out into the hallway. "Let's go."

Danielson turned and looked over his shoulder at Elliot, who was a walking a half-step behind them. "I really didn't mean to...it was just a grainy video! I didn't think it would cause any trouble!"

"No, you didn't," Elliot said to him. "Obviously, thinking is difficult for you." He heard Olivia chuckle and he tugged on his tie, his grin growing a bit wider.

Squad Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan

"So, you're telling me, all we have him on is criminal mischief, obstruction, and unlawful distribution of surveillance images," Casey Novak, Assistant District Attorney, listed as she sat on the edge of Elliot's desk.

"Sums it up," Elliot said sharply. "Could you get your ass off of my blotter?"

Casey peered down at him, a bit aggravated, as she slid off of his desk and leaned against it. "Better?"

He rolled his eyes. "Worse," he said. "Just move, Novak." He used his elbow to nudge her out of the way, smoothed out his wrinkled calendar, and shook his head. He sent an annoyed look across his desk toward Olivia, who was glaring at Casey. "Hey," he called to her in a harsh whisper. He saw the fire in her eyes as she snapped her head toward him. A surge of arrogant pride coursed through him, knowing how jealous she was, and knowing why. "I didn't even notice, so stop making a mental list of the ways you could kill her."

"I'd get away with it," she hissed back at him, swiveling her chair around. She picked up her pen and shook he head, refocusing her attention toward the case. "Morales cleaned up some of the images, so we have a clear shot of our perp." She held and eight-by-ten photo in her hands. "Or, at least the guy who dumped the body. I'm running it through the system, hopefully this new facial-recognition program is worth the grant money the department spent on it."

Elliot scoffed. "Well, at least we got his face."

Munch hummed, hearing her. "And thanks to Doc Warner, we got an ID on the vic." He walked over to the magnetic board in the middle of the room, shuffled a few things around, and tacked up a photo of his own. "Darlene Aberforth."

"Okay," Elliot said, leaning back in his chair. "That sounds like money."

"I'll say," Munch said, turning to face his colleagues. He lowered his head a bit and peered at them over the rim of his glasses. One bony finger pointed upward as he spoke. "Her husband was the late Richard Aberforth, the real-estate mogul. Self-made billionaire, left her sitting on a mountain of cash and assets when he died."

Olivia clicked the pen in her hands over and over, mirroring Elliot's position. Leaned back in her chair, legs crossed, and eyes forward, she asked, "Did we notify the family? And how much are we talking about, because money is always a motive for..."

"Her three children are scattered across the country," Munch said, holding up a hand and shaking his head. "No immediate family in the tri-state area. Her oldest daughter is flying in from Arizona tonight, but I couldn't reach the other two." He dropped into his chair and rubbed his palms over his knees for a moment. "They each have a strong but equal share of inheritance, on top of their current split fortunes. Money wouldn't be an issue for any of them, so that's the wrong tree to be barking up, Benson."

"Guess so," she said with a laugh. "I'll look deeper into her financials, see if there's a greedy broker, crooked banker, or pissed off politician in her history." She sat up straighter and started typing into her computer.

Elliot reached over, grabbing a green and white cup off of Olivia's desk. He brought it to his lips and sipped, winking at her, and put it back down where he'd found it. He took a breath and asked, "Do know if she had any enemies? She piss anyone off lately?"

"Only about fifty disgruntled employees," Munch said as he pointed to his partner. "Fin did a little digging while you were chatting with our amateur Spielberg in the box," he said.

"She was the boss from hell," Fin declared as he rubbed a hand down his face. He flipped up a page in his notebook and rattled off a list of their victim's hired help. "Man, this woman had people for everything. She had a dog-walker, four maids, a butler, a cook, two landscapers, a gardener...because apparently that's different...a guy who washed the windows, a lady who did her laundry, two drivers, and a personal aesthetician." He looked up, flummoxed. "Whatever the hell that is."

Olivia laughed, taking a sip of her coffee and then handing it to Elliot, who nodded gratefully. "It's a skin and beauty specialist. You know, facials, chemical peels, hair, and makeup...some even give Botox injections and perform minor plastic surgery."

Fin narrowed his eyes. "So someone who does all the shit you don't need done, huh?"

"Damn right," Elliot said, smiling at Olivia. "She's a natural beauty."

Casey let out a single snort of laughter and folded her arms. "Natural, except the hair color, right?"

Elliot turned with a sneer and shrugged at her in confusion. "Why are you still here?"

"I'm waiting for one of you to give me something I can use with Mister YouTube in there!" she yelled, jutting a thumb in the direction of the interrogation room. "If I charge him with three E-Felonies, he'll be home in time for dinner!"

"Well, that's all he's guilty of, so schedule his arraignment and remind him to floss after he eats!" Elliot yelled back. He sighed and licked his lips, rising from his seat. He took two steps, closing the gap between him and Casey. "Oh, by the way," he said, lowering his voice, "Next time you want to throw me and Liv under the bus, make sure it's for something we actually did, instead of something your sick and twisted little mind conjured up."

Casey flinched. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You told Cragen I was sleeping with her," he whispered angrily. "It's none of anyone's business, especially yours, if I am or not. So stay out of my life, and stay out of my way. You got that?"

"Are you out of your mind?" Casey said snidely. "Why the hell would I tell Cragen anything? And, for the record, you can fuck whoever you want."

"Yeah, I can," he hissed. "But no one in this place needs to know about it. You're fucking lucky I got us out of the fucking mess you made. Christ, he was ready to fire us." His eyes flickered with anger and his nostrils flared. "Try anything like that again, and I'll go right to McCoy."

Casey let out a slow breath, looked deeply into Elliot's eyes, and whispered back, "Even if I did know you were screwing your partner, I wouldn't tell that to Cragen. So if someone was trying to get you in hot water, it wasn't me." She straightened up and, loud enough for all to hear, she said, "You got it, Detective. I'll schedule his arraignment. Sorry I took up so much of your precious time." She looked around and then huffed as she turned sharply and walked out of the squad room.

"Everything okay?" Olivia asked him, concerned.

He nodded, scratching at the budding five-o'clock-shadow on his chin. "Peachy," he said, walking back to his chair. He sat, pulled his seat into his desk, and said, "Just taking care of a little problem.

"Good," she told him. "Now maybe you can help me take care of a big one."

He tilted his head, grinned at her, and said, "Not at work."

"Not that," she said, whipping him in the arm with a folder. She rolled her eyes and stifled a laugh, hearing him chuckle. Taking a breath she said, "You know our vic reminded me of my mother."

All trace of mirth was gone from his face as he nodded. "Yeah, I saw it, too. It was a pretty strong resemblance."

Olivia nodded, taking another breath, and she cleared her throat before she turned her monitor to face him. "Well, now we know there's a reason for it."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Aberforth Residence, E. 71st Street, New York City, NY

"I'm surprised he's letting you work this case," Elliot said, pulling books off of a large shelf.

Olivia flipped open cabinet doors and sighed. "I didn't even know her. Neither did my mother, apparently. We talked to the daughter, and she's never even heard of my mother, so this isn't an issue. Cragen knows that." She bit her lip and shook her head. "I just...I didn't really need to add to the list of reasons why my mother was the way she was. Her family disowned her because she was raped...cut her out of their lives because of me." She slammed the oak drawer she'd just pulled open shut, and then put both hands on her hips. "There's nothing in here."

He slipped a large book back on the shelf, grabbing another one. "In a way, it was a blessing. You didn't need people like this in your life." He fanned the pages, looking for an errant receipt or handwritten note that might be of some importance. "You're so much better than these people, Liv."

She felt her lips curl into a half-smile as she opened another drawer. "Thanks," she said. "Oh, hey...I think I got something." She pulled a leather-bound book out of the drawer and dropped it onto the flat surface of the cabinet. She opened it, flipped through a few pages, and looked over her shoulder at Elliot. "It's a check register." She looked back down at the book and scanned a few more pages. "None of these transactions came up in the search I ran, is this some kind of hidden account?" She made a disgusted noise. "Some of these checks are written out for over a million dollars. Shit, El, I'm never gonna see this kind of money in my life, and she was spending it on flowers."

He walked up behind her, looked over her shoulder, and ran his finger down the center of the page. "Five-hundred-thousand dollars, made out to a Vincenzo Petrucchio."

"Memo line says 'protection.' You thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow.

He made a pensive face and then said, "Name sounds Italian, could be mob-related. It would explain her, uh, untimely death." He tapped his finger in the middle of the book. "We'll take this with us, run the name, and see if any of these other checks seem like a solid lead." He looked at her, a quiet moment spent staring into her eyes. "You really are better than this," he whispered to her. "And, uh, you...you have a family."

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "A pretty amazing one." She looked away from him before the moment grew any more serious, grabbing the ledger and moving it to the side. "There could be something else in this drawer."

Elliot hummed and began to rifle through it. "Some old receipts, business cards for cleaning services...one for a dog groomer." He held up a small, pink and white card, laughing. "Polished Paws Puppy Pampering." He scoffed. "Say that five times fast."

She laughed and smiled at him, thanking God that he was in her life, regardless of who else was not. "Are we done here, you think?"

"I think if we searched every room in this house, it would take us the next five years," he told her, sighing. "We got the important stuff, let the crime scene unit handle the nine bathrooms and seventeen bedrooms." He jerked his head toward the door. "If they find anything, they'll let us know."

Olivia let out a slow breath. "This place is pristine," she said, her eyes lifting toward the ceiling. "There's no way she was killed anywhere near this place, so we still need to find the..." she was interrupted by the chirping of her phone. With a furrowed brow, she pulled the device out of her pocket, tapped the button, and answered the call. "Benson. No, still at the home. Practically nothing, except a financial...great, thanks. We're on the way."

Elliot watched her hang up and shove the phone back in her pocket. "Where are we going?"

She dropped the large book into an open paper bag, rolled the top down tightly, and looked up at him. "Sakura Park," she told him. "Woman called 911 after her dog ran into a bush and came out covered in blood."

"That's a block away from the apartment building," he said, his eyes scrunching up.

"That's why they called us," she said with a one-shoulder-shrug. "The dog also made a chew-toy out of our vic's wallet." Her eyebrows shot up and came back down fast, her lips flattening into a thin line, and she breezed past him, knowing he'd follow her.

Sakura Park, Riverside Drive and W. 122nd Avenue, New York City, NY.

Elliot lifted the strip of yellow tape high enough for Olivia to walk under. He watched her snap on a pair of latex gloves, and then walked in line behind her. He held one hand to the curve of her lower back as they climbed over a small pile of rocks and tree roots, making sure if she lost her balance, he'd catch her.

"Thanks," she said, taking the bagged wallet as a uniformed officer handed it to her. She examined it through the thin, clear plastic, and then handed it to Elliot, knowing he was by her side. "It's hers." She sighed and looked back toward the officer. "Which bush?"

The officer pointed to his left. "Over there," he said. "Also found these back there. I was gonna wait for you, but I didn't want to compromise any evidence." He held out another sealed, clear, plastic bag.

She took it from him, squinting a bit, and turned it around in her hands. "Straps," she said, seeing Elliot's head turn out of the corner of her eyes. "Leather. With buckles. Look, the edges are torn, not cut." She ran her hand along the tattered and frayed ends, showing her partner.

"So she was strapped down, before being led here, but this is obviously where her throat was sliced." He scratched his head and scraped his teeth along his lower lip. "We're still looking for where the bastard kept her. This just keeps getting better."

Olivia slapped him in the chest and said, "I think we got lucky. Look." She turned the bag toward him again, indicating a mark on one of the straps. "We've seen these before," she said, grinning.

Elliot looked, his jaw dropping, and he turned his shocked eyes up to meet hers. "Son-of-bitch," he hissed. He looked around, eyed the bush for a moment, and then said, "Let's finish up here and then find out what the hell she was doing at Mercy General."

Mercy General Hospital, Psychiatric Ward, Manhattan, NY

"So you don't recognize her? At all?" Elliot prodded the nurse at the desk. He held the photo out to her more closely. "She wasn't a patient here?"

"Detective Stabler," the nurse said, leaning forward onto her elbows, "I know every patient who's been on this floor for the last five years, and she was not one of them. Ever." She looked at the photo again, sighed, and brushed the hair out of her eyes. "And we checked all the beds, twice. None of them are missing the cuffs, so I'm not sure what else I can say." She let out another slow breath. "Maybe upstairs in geriatric? Some of their beds have straps, too, for patients with dementia or Parkinson's. I'm not saying she's old, but...that's the only help I can offer."

"All right," Elliot said with a nod. "Thanks." He turned away from the woman and tugged on Olivia's sleeve, walking with her toward the elevator. "I don't know, I can't see someone getting away with abusing a patient like this. Not here."

Olivia pushed the button on the wall, beckoning the elevator, and combed her nails through her hair. "How else would you explain these straps? Warner said they're consistent with the marks she found on Aberforth's body, the lab found her DNA all over them..."

"How would I go about stealing a bed?" he asked, pushing her through the opening metal doors.

"A hospital bed?" she queried, raising an eyebrow. "Unless you had access to the hospital and the freight elevator, I don't see how..." She paused, realization flashing in her eyes as she thought of another possibility. "Mercy offers home hospice," she said. "They provide the nurse and any needed equipment, including the bed."

Elliot moved his thumb from the button for the fifth floor to the one for the lobby. "They'll have a list downstairs, right? Anyone currently using one of those beds?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "It's a better option than going floor to floor, coming up empty." She looked at him again, this time with a softness in her features. "You call your kids?"

He closed his eyes and nodded, saved from saying anything else by the ding of the elevator. He led Olivia out of it, smiling at her as he pulled his badge out of the clip that held it at his hip.

She walked in sync with him toward the front desk, holding up her own shining shield. "Excuse me," she said, tapping the bottom of the badge on the counter.

A cheerful-looking redhead turned toward them. "Oh, cops? What can I do for you?"

Elliot's smiled faded as he sighed. "I'm Detective Stabler." He tossed his head toward Olivia. "This is Detective Benson. We're working a case, and these turned up," he said, dropping the sealed bag containing the leather straps onto the desk. "Now, you can tell just by looking that they came from one of the beds in this place. Before we start investigating every doctor, nurse, and...receptionist," he made a point to look directly at her and narrow his eyes, "I'd like to know if you have a list of all of the registered patients using one of them at home."

Having gone completely white, and all cheery expression dashed, she nodded and turned to face the computer. She clicked around on the screen and tapped rapidly on the keys.

Olivia heard the printer roar and grinned at Elliot. They'd be at it all night, but they'd find their crime scene. She was sure of it. But, then again, given recent events in her life, she couldn't be sure of much of anything anymore.

Bunk Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, NY

Elliot pushed open the heavy metal door, rubbing his eyes. He coughed and grimaced as he walked further into the musty room, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He rolled his shoulders and rocked his neck back and forth, trying to ease the tension housed there. He plopped with a sigh onto the nearest bed, making a face as the mattress dipped a little too much. He looked over his shoulder and suddenly, the world was brighter. He smiled as he kicked up his feet and rolled onto his side, letting his right arm drape over the body of the woman whose space he'd just invaded.

"My boyfriend can and will kick your ass," she said, her voice muffled by her pillow.

"I can take him," he told her, and then he moved, pressing his chapped lips to her forehead. He watched her head turn a bit and her eyes flutter open. "Hi," he whispered, now nose-to-nose with her.

She nuzzled him, giving him an Eskimo-kiss, and moved back to allow him more room on the bed. She chuckled when he scooted forward but pulled her closer. "What time is it?"

"Quarter-to-twelve," he grumbled, closing his eyes. He trailed his lips over hers lightly before kissing her once. "We still have time, Munch and Fin are taking over for a while."

She gave a low hum and nodded against his head. "Did Morales..."

"Program stopped running an hour ago," he interrupted. "No hits." He kissed the end of her nose and ran his right hand up and down her back softly. "He's trying something else, but he doesn't think he'll get anything."

"Okay," she mumbled, half-asleep, her lips pressed to his chin. "What about Petrucchio?"

"Munch is looking into him," Elliot said, brushing his forehead against hers. He sighed, almost in relief, and looped his leg around hers.

She smiled slightly and relaxed deeper into his hold. When she first met him, she didn't figure him for the cuddling type. As she got to know him, she realized that assumption was right. But when their relationship shifted, he changed with it. Now, her favorite place to be in the world was in his arms, and he seemed perfectly content to keep her there.

He pulled her tighter against him, twisting his lips that final centimeter and kissing her again. He ran his tongue over her slightly parted lips, and then slipped inside, making her moan and move. He felt her hands fall around his shoulders, her fingers curl against his shirt, and he whispered her name into the kiss. It was moments like this that took his breath away, and he would gladly suffocate for the experience.

She kissed him back with an easy languidness that brought with it feeling and power without force. After a long while, though, she pulled away from him. "Work," she breathed.

"Break," he countered on a hard whisper, smirking at her. "C'mere," he teased, pulling her body on top of his. Self-control was something he had a great deal of, but when it came to her, there was a much shallower pool. He kissed her again, his left hand hooking around her neck, holding her to him, while his right fingered the belt-loops at the back of her pants. He rocked upward into her once, only once, before breathing slowly and moaning against her lips. "I know, I know," he complained knowingly.

She gave a soft chuckle before pulling her head back and brushing noses with him as she did before. "You know I want you, anytime, anywhere, always. But not...not here. It's too..."

"I live for danger," he said, wagging his eyebrows and slanting his mouth over hers again. He laughed against their kiss, though, telling her he knew where to draw the line, and how risky crossing it would be. He tore his lips away from hers, looked into her eyes as best he could in the dim light of the room, and he said, "I love you."

"I love you, too," she told him, giving his lips one final peck before settling her head on his chest. "I, uh, talked to Cragen. While you were making phone calls."

"Oh, great," he huffed, playing with her hair, "What did he accuse us of now?"

"Nothing," she said with a small shake of her head. "He apologized again. Whatever you said to him really made him feel like shit."

Elliot laughed. "I didn't say anything that wasn't true," he told her. "I denied having an affair with you, because I'm not, and the reasons I gave him for why he should've known better were nothing but the absolute truth, baby." He sighed. "He feels like shit because it was a fucking shitty thing to think."

She hummed in agreement, but then remained silent, drawing small intricate patterns in his chest with her index finger. "He, uh, he told me who told him they think we're sleeping together."

His head shot up and he grabbed her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were wide and his grin was almost evil, as if he were already plotting the murder he would commit as soon as he knew who his victim was. "Who," he asked, his nostrils flaring.

She looked back at him with a slight sadness in her eyes, her hands coming up to cover his. She brushed her thumbs along the sides of his fingers, calming him, and she kissed him sweetly before telling him. "Doctor Hendrix."

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

JP Morgan Chase, Corporate Campus, Park Avenue, New York City

"No," Elliot whispered to Olivia, keeping one eye on the man behind the desk in front of him. "I left Hendrix three messages, she hasn't called me back. I just want to know what the hell she thinks she was..."

"You know," Olivia interrupted, in just as harsh a whisper, "She's always thought we were too close, too involved, maybe after the last eval, she misinterpreted something. She usually does." She looked at him then, realization in her eyes. "Did you tell her about your..."

"I'm sorry," interjected a staunch-looking man with wire-rimmed glasses and an expensive toupee, "but without a warrant, I can not give you access to that account." He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "I have asked my supervisor, twice, and you stood right there as I spoke with him again. Without a warrant, the answer is no."

"We have a warrant," Elliot interrupted. "The ADA is on her way down here with it right now, so in the interest of saving yourself a lot of time and a lot of pain, please, just pull up the records on this account."

"What? Pain? Are you threatening me, Detective?" the man questioned, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose.

"If he is," a voice called from behind them, as heels clicked against the tiles, "It's a bit premature, and not necessary. Here." Casey Novak slapped a folded and sealed document into Elliot's chest. She raised her eyebrow, waiting. "You gonna thank me?"

He rolled his eyes, grabbed the blue papers, and dropped them onto the desk in front of the befuddled, bespectacled man. "Yeah, thanks," he said dismissively.

Casey scoffed, turned, and looked at Olivia. "Seriously? What bit him in the ass?"

Olivia shrugged, trying to keep a look of indifference on her face. She watched as Casey looked back at Elliot.

Casey licked her lips, shook her head, and walked back the way she'd come, her heels echoing as she moved.

"Hey," Elliot called to Olivia, who'd been glaring after Casey, "You might want to look at this." He caught her eyes, noticing the brief disdain and jealousy fade into professional courtesy. He let out a short laugh and then tapped on the top of the banker's computer monitor. "You were right."

Olivia moved into a spot behind Elliot, looking over his shoulder at the computer screen. She scanned the information, and then bit her lip, pointing to a name on the list. "Petrucchio." She looked at the banker. "Can you tell me if that check was cashed?"

The banker sighed, scrolling down in the program, and he said, "Yes. The funds were withdrawn from Mrs. Aberforth's account last Monday." He looked up at Elliot. "Cleared Mister Petrucchio's account the following Thursday."

"Petrucchio has an account here?" Olivia asked. Her eyes drifted toward Elliot.

The banker nodded and smiled. "Mister Petrucchio is one of our investment brokers." He saw the vile expressions on Olivia and Elliot's faces, swallowed hard, and said, "He...he should be in his office. Upstairs, ninth floor."

"Great," Elliot said, retrieving the warrant, knowing he would need to show it to people upstairs. He looked at Olivia, walking with her toward the brass-colored elevator. "This just keeps getting better."

Petrucchio Residence, E. 81st Street, Manhattan, New York

"Maybe no one's home," Fin said, folding his arms and huffing, watching a cloud of white build in front of his mouth. "Fucking freezing out here."

Munch pressed his lips together and knocked on the door again. "NYPD," he called, "Open up!" He back up a bit, moved a foot to the left, and peered through a front window. "Television is on, there's light, someone's playing hard to get."

Fin brought his hands up to his mouth and breathed into them, and then rubbed them together as he said, "Gotta be a woman."

Munch pounded on the door, harder now, and yelled, "NYPD, open the door!" He looked at Fin, hearing a chain slide and a lock click. He stepped back and watched the white door creak open, his head tilting when a young woman came into view.

"I'm sorry," she said sheepishly. "I heard you the first time, but I was..." she cleared her throat. "My mother...she needed help getting into her bed, I couldn't just leave her..."

Munch held up a hand. "No problem," he said. "Does Vinnie Petrucchio live here?"

The girl nodded. "I'm his daughter, Gia," she said, pulling the door open. "Before you come in, can I see your badges?"

"Smart girl." Fin pulled his badge out of his pocket and held it up for the young woman. "Detective Tutuola," he declared. "That's my partner, Detective Munch."

"Pleased to meet you," Gia said with a small smile. "What is this about? If you need my father, he's at work."

"No, we..." Munch began, as he stepped into the foyer. He stopped, though, and took a look around. It looked more like a hospital than a home. Suddenly, he felt very guilty for causing an intrusion. "We just need to see the bed you've been renting from Mercy General."

"Oh," Gia said, letting a small sigh escape with the word. "We stopped using it when Mom got worse. We needed something bigger, with..." she paused and took a shaky breath, "Stronger straps."

Fin looked at Munch, and then back toward Gia. "Where did you put the other bed, then?"

"My father put it in storage," she told him. "He said the hospital wouldn't take it back until our agreement was up, which...well," she turned down her eyes and knotted her fingers together. "It won't be long now. They'll get the bed when they come to get...her."

"I'm sorry," Munch offered softly. He rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

Gia nodded, straightening up. "I've already accepted what's happening to her. But thank you."

Fin stepped closer to her and asked, "You know where the bed is now? I don't mean to be insensitive, but it's important."

Gia furrowed her brow. "Why? The only person who's used it is my mother, and she's upstairs, asleep. I don't see how..."

"Please," Fin interrupted. "We just need to account for the whereabouts and condition of the bed."

Gia's face relaxed, then, and she moved toward a small, pine-wood desk. She pulled open a drawer, and then grabbed a little grey book. She flipped its pages and then made a small grunting sound. "Here you are," she said, turning the book toward Munch. "Post-Management Self Storage, on the west side. Unit nine-B."

Munch looked at the address book, humming, and then whispered to Fin. "Awfully far from here, no?"

"But awfully close to where the vic was dumped." He looked up, and a bit louder, he said, "Thank you for your help."

Gia waved to both detectives, and as soon as they left, she moved to the phone. She dialed a number fast, and then waited. "Yes, can you connect me to Vincenzo Petrucchio, in investments? Please, tell him it's important."

Post-Management Self-Storage Facility, W. 81st Street, Manhattan, New York

"This place gives me the creeps," Olivia said as she walked beside Elliot down the empty corridor.

"Self-Storage?" he asked, scrunching up his face at her.

She shook her head. "New York," she said, looking at him. She was only half-joking. "That man was impossible. I'm surprised we even got anything out of him."

"Protection," he scoffed, recalling the memo line on Aberforth's check. "That five-hundred grand was to protect her investments, his commission," he shook his head in disgust. "We are in the wrong line of work. Shit."

"Yeah, but he clammed up the minute you asked him where he was two nights ago," she said, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets. "He went white when you told him Aberforth was dead."

"He's involved," he said. "It's not a mob-hit, like we thought, but he has something to do with this, I know he does. I could kill Munch for calling us in the middle of questioning Petrucchio like that. We almost had him."

"Well, this was more important," she told him. "Besides, if we find the bed in this unit, we can go back and ask him some more questions. See what other colors we can get him to turn." She stopped walking when he did, and she looked at him. "Nine-B," she said. She turned to look behind her, nodding to a man in white overalls holding a small saw-like tool. "Open it."

Elliot pulled Olivia into his arms, away from the flying sparks and metal shards, shielding her and himself as the man sawed off the padlock. He squeezed his eyes shut and moved more in front of Olivia, only relaxing when the whir of the rotor stopped and the metal clang of the lock hitting the floor rang against his ears. He took a breath, tugged on his suit jacket, and said, "Thank you."

The maintenance man nodded, then flipped the hand-saw up onto his shoulder, turned around, and whistled a jaunty tune as he walked away.

Olivia looked up at Elliot, smirking. She felt a warmth run through her, knowing that he was keeping her safe, and she wasn't even in any real danger. She smoothed a hand up his chest and said, "You can, uh, back up now." She laughed at his quick movement, but then tugged on his tie. "Trust me, okay? You'll be a lot closer than that. Later," she said with a wink. She dropped his tie and gestured to the storage unit.

Elliot chuckled at her, but then bent down low and grabbed the handle of the sliding door. Grunting, he hoisted it upward. Immediately, he choked and gagged on a horrific smell coming from inside the unit. "Jesus," he cracked, backing up. He put an arm around Olivia, shaking his head. "You're not going anywhere near that," he said, his hand subconsciously moving lower on her body.

"El, come on, you know we have to..." she stopped speaking when the odor wafted her way. She buried her mouth and nose in the bend of her elbow and said, muffled, "De-comp."

Elliot nodded, lifting the collar of his shirt up halfway over his face. He pulled a penlight out of his jacket pocket and flicked it on, staying in front of Olivia as they walked, slowly, toward the storage unit. He raised his small flashlight, and when the beam hit into the unit, his eyes widened."Oh, my God," he spat.

Olivia's eye trailed over the blood-stained bed, the straps tattered and torn, and she grimaced when she saw bits of flesh and bone on the cement ground beneath it. "That's not all from our vic," she said, shaking her head," But I'm pretty damn sure we found our primary. She was killed in this room."

Elliot nodded, turning toward her. Needing a humanizing moment, he kissed her forehead. "Call Cragen, baby," he whispered. "We need a crime scene unit out here. And..." he turned back toward the storage room, his light shining over the floor again. "...tell him we need Warner."

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Squad Room of the Special Victim's Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

"You okay?" Elliot asked her, sitting on the corner of her desk. He held out a hot cup of coffee and offered her a weak smile. It seemed as if he was asking her if she was okay more often in the last few days than he ever had, and it worried him.

She shook her head. "I'll never be okay, about any of this," she said, her eyes roaming around the dimly lit room. "This job, it takes a lot out of me, it makes me hate people, it makes me despise them." She bit her lip and looked down into the swirling whites and browns of her coffee. "It makes me feel sorry for them, and it makes me hate myself for not doing more to save them."

He sighed and dropped his head to one side. "My sweet girl," he whispered, "You will never know how many people you save. You save them, and you don't even realize." He leaned in closer to her. "You saved me."

She looked up at him, the despair and guilt in her eyes washing away in a flood of love and relief. "Ditto, Stabler," she said, finally taking a sip of the much-needed drink. "Where are Fin and Munch?"

"Talking to Warner," he told her, crossing his arms. "She found at least three different people in that storage unit." He cringed. "Parts of them, anyway." He shivered a bit, rubbed his tired eyes, and said, "When they get back, we have to go back out there and look for Petrucchio. There's an APB out on the car, and a BOLO on the guy, but I wanna nail the bastard myself."

"Son-of-a-bitch knew we were coming back for him," she said, disgusted and downright pissed off. "His daughter called Fin, too, said she tried to call him at the bank to ask him why they were looking for the bed, and he was already gone. She's panicking, thinking the worst."

"You two," Cragen said in a sotto voice, walking toward them from his office, "You got a minute?"

Elliot looked at him almost disdainfully, and then glanced at Olivia who took a long sip of her coffee before getting out of her seat. He followed her lead, straightening up and walking with her and Cragen back into the captain's office. "Before you even ask, no, I'm still not fucking my partner," he spat out harshly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Olivia shot him a look. It was scary how great he'd become at lying, but she knew it was only for this one purpose, and he didn't make a habit of it. She ran a hand through her hair, sighed, and said, "Forgive him, he's PMS-ing."

Cragen chuckled at that, and at the bemused expression on Elliot's face when he turned and glared at her. "No, I...it's not about that. Well, it is, but not..." he stumbled over his words, giving up trying, and grabbed two thick files off of his desk. "See these?"

"I'm not blind, so, yeah," Elliot said, snapping. He let out a soft 'oof' when Olivia backhanded him in the stomach. "What?" he scoffed.

She rolled her eyes and focused her attention on Cragen again. "Our jackets," she said, nervous now. "What did we do?"

"Nothing," Cragen said, tossing the folders onto an empty chair next to him. "Absolutely nothing. That's why Hendrix thought that you, uh, had taken a serious step in your relationship. She said the same shit she always says where you're concerned." He turned away from them and rattled off, as if it were a memorized monologue, "You're too close, you depend only on each other, you'll choose each other over everything else, you'll kill and die for each other."

Olivia and Elliot were silent. They couldn't, and certainly wouldn't, deny that.

Cragen noticed their noiseless admission of guilt. He turned around and slapped his hands down flat on his desk. "But this time, she told me, there is not one shred of animosity between you, not a single ounce of the kind of tension she usually sees in her observations. And when I checked...when I thought about it...there hasn't been a major fight, or a major meltdown, there hasn't been low-blows and harsh words firing back and forth between you, and that either means you've...found other ways to work that shit out, or you..."

"You think I'm sleeping with him because he hasn't been pissing me off lately?" Olivia asked, interrupting with a half-laugh. "Captain, he pulled his stick out of his ass, it doesn't mean he's shoving it anywhere..."

"Liv!" Elliot yelled, almost cackling. "Don't even say it," he chuckled. He held up a hand and looked at her knowingly, and when he turned to Cragen, he stiffened. "Kathy left."

"What?" Cragen asked, shocked.

Olivia stared at Elliot for a second. "What?" she parroted, feigning ignorance for the sake of their carefully designed facade.

Elliot looked at her with a flat smirk and furrowed brow. "Liv, really?" he shrugged. "You know. Obviously Cragen knows that you know." He shook his head at her and looked back at his captain. "Six months ago. Around the time I stopped getting under her skin?" He jutted a thumb toward Olivia as he smirked . He was just plain getting under her, now. Under her, and on top of her, and behind her, and inside of her, but Cragen really didn't need to know that. "I guess, with no tension at home, I was easier to deal with at work. And, yeah, Hendrix probably did see me and Liv going out after work, or me going home with her, but Cap, it's not...I'm sleeping on her couch. Don't look at me like that, okay? It's temporary. I need a place I can bring my kids, after all. Do you know how fucking hard it is to find a five-bedroom place I can afford on a cop's salary in this God-forsaken city?"

Cragen's gaze was frozen, fixed on Elliot for a long while. His features seemed to take on the qualities of a disheartened father. "I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't know." He seemed flummoxed by that fact, almost hurt. "At any rate, I don't see why she would lie...she didn't follow you anywhere, though, she told me...well, I guess, if anything happened here, I would know, but...she said she caught you, uh, in the act...when she came to file her reports. I don't know what she'd gain from lying."

"Probably thought it would be the last straw," Olivia proffered. "You'd fire me, or send him to therapy with her once a week, you know she's been trying to get into his pants for years. I mean, if she knows Kathy left his ass, she'd do anything to be the next one to..."

"She's a doctor," Cragen interrupted, noticing how worked up Olivia was starting to get, and needing to stop it. "A professional. Her personal feelings..."

"Her personal feelings have gotten in the way before," she lowered her voice and looked with narrow eyes at Elliot. "Especially when it comes to someone who's willingly gone and talked to her, after hours."

Cragen looked at Elliot then, raising both eyebrows.

"Hey!" Elliot yelled. "No, that was purely professional! I needed to tell her what I was leaving out of that fucking interview in the first place, to keep my job!"

Olivia scoffed, her jealousy getting the best of her. "Look, are we done?" She narrowed her eyes. "We need to get back to work, you know? That thing we've been doing a little too well, which is apparently a problem, now."

"Watch your attitude, Benson," Cragen warned, pointing a finger at her.

She stared at him for a moment. "Get your priorities straight," she said, shaking her head. She turned around and walked out of the room, not even certain if Elliot was going with her.

Apartment of Olivia Benson, 203 W. 89th Street, 4D, Manhattan, New York

Elliot had been watching her for hours, not daring to say anything out of turn. She had been in a sour mood ever since she stormed out of Cragen's office. She was pissed, and she took it out on Petrucchio once they found him and hauled him in; the interrogation was brutal. They'd been sent home to shower, change, and get some sleep before following the trail of bread crumbs Petrucchio had left for them in his answers to their questions.

"What the hell is up with you?" he finally asked, smoothing a dollop of muscle balm over his left shoulder.

With tired eyes and dragging feet, she moved toward him, took the jar out of his hand, scooped some of the greasy balm into her fingers, and began massaging it into his back. "I let Cragen get to me," she said on a breath. "I let Hendrix get to me, and I let Petrucchio get to me."

After moaning in sheer pleasure once, he eyed her over his shoulder. "Why were you so pissed off? You know I never even gave Hendrix a second glance, ever."

"It's been...a sore spot," she hesitantly admitted. "I know you told me all about it the day after you went to her, but...you should have just talked to me in the first place. Not her." She rubbed the balm into his skin a bit harder. "She never should have had a part of you that I didn't, and on top of it...you were so angry that night, you told me to leave you the hell alone...and then...you went to her."

He turned fast, grabbing her lotion-slathered hands. "I went to her...because I had to, for one thing, and because I didn't want to break in front of you. Not like that." He kicked his lips and moved closer to her, cupping her cheeks now. "I had to talk to a therapist, work it out in my head and my heart and let her spout some psychoanalysis bullshit so that I could go back to you...with a clear head." He smirked at her and kissed the tip of her nose. "If I had gone anywhere with you that night, we would have made a huge fucking mistake, because I would have needed more than just a bit of good conversation from you, and we weren't ready for that back then."

She nodded, a soft and small smile gracing her lips. "I know, I do, it just still stings, knowing she got that little piece of your life before I did."

He shook his head and kissed her lips roughly. As he pulled back, he said, "You have my whole life, baby. You are my life."

She moved to kiss him again but a knock on the front door prevented her from getting the chance to actually do it. Rolling her eyes, she pushed away from him, slapped the jar of balm into his hand, and went into the living room to answer the door. Her eyes widened as soon as she saw who it was. "Captain, what are you..."

"Grab a jacket, get Elliot, we need to move on this, now," Cragen babbled, cutting her off. He looked toward the couch and squinted. "Where is Elliot, anyway?"

Entering the room, Elliot narrowed his eyes. "I was in the bathroom. You couldn't have just called one of us?"

Cragen shot him a questioning look, wondering why his shirt was on inside out. "I was only a block away when I got the call, there wasn't any time, we have to go, now!"

Olivia pulled her coat, and Elliot's, off the hook. She threw his to him and gave him a concerned stare as she asked, "What happened?"

"Warner identified the other remains from that storage unit," Cragen said, his eyes slowly closing. "One of them...fuck, one of the victims...is Joan Cassidy."

Olivia went white, her stomach dropping. She turned slowly to Elliot, meeting his equally horrified eyes. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes as she whispered, "Brian's mother."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Apartment of Brian Cassidy, Brooklyn, New York

Elliot had a hard time dealing with his emotions as he watched Olivia trying to comfort and question Brian Cassidy. He felt horrible for the man, a former colleague, someone who could've been a friend. However, watching Cassidy throw his arms around Olivia, even though it was out of anguish, made his blood boil. He stood in the doorway, arms folded, leaning against the moulding as he watched Olivia lean forward in a large reclining chair, writing down whatever was divulged by Cassidy, sitting on the couch across from her.

"Brian, I need to ask this..." Olivia shot Elliot a pained look before turning back to Cassidy. "Did your mother have any large bank accounts? Investments?"

Cassidy squinted, an irritated tone in his voice as he said, "You think someone killed my mother for money?" He licked his flattened lips and shook his head. "Special Victims, I remember how this shit works. Sex crimes, kids, and the elderly. So be straight with me, Olivia, exactly how many of those categories does my mom fit into, huh?"

Elliot narrowed his eyes. "Easy," he said, stepping forward a bit. "We don't know if she was raped, or assaulted, or even if she was conscious when she was killed. All we know, like Liv already told you, was that the amount of blood in that room tells us she didn't make it." He knelt down a bit, trying to push any grudge or hatred for Cassidy aside. "I know this sucks, man, trust me. I know what it's like to lose a parent, to watch...someone I love...lose a mother. But you have to help us figure out why someone would want to hurt your mother, so we can find the son-of-a-bitch."

Cassidy blinked one, a few tears rolling out of the corner's of his eyes, and he nodded. Turning his eyes back toward Olivia, he hummed as he tried to breath, his knee jerking up and down. "Um, maybe she...her pension, they invest that, right?" He rubbed his eyes. "My dad would...my dad would know if there..."

"Okay," Olivia said, folding over her notebook. "Okay, breathe, Brian. We, uh, we need to talk to your father."

Cassidy nodded and jutted a thumb over his shoulder. "He's in the kitchen. Go easy on him, huh?"

Olivia looked at Elliot, closed her eyes, glanced back at Cassidy, and nodded.

Squad Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

Fin spun around in his chair, one leg kicked up on the other, a pensive look on his face. He twirled a ball point pen in between his fingers and tilted his head. "What are we missing?"

Munch slapped two file folders onto his desk and peered over the rims of his glasses. "What do you mean?"

"We followed every lead Petrucchio gave us, came up empty," Fin complained. "We're going around in fucking circles. Man, the only connection between the vics is they all invested a good chuck of change with Petrucchio, but he's not..."

"Investments," Munch said, interrupting. "So, aside from having the same broker, did the vics invest in any of the same stocks or startups?"

Fin swiveled around again, clicking keys and pulling up the financial records Olivia had spent hours collecting. "Hey, yeah," he said, his eyes widening as he straightened up a bit. "They all invested in Violux Engeneering." He scrolled through the information for a bit, and he slammed his palm down on the desk, when he realized something else. "They were all paid by that company, too."

"We need an address," Munch said, moving to pick up his phone, "And a miracle."

Apartment of Brian Cassidy, Brooklyn, New York

"All right," Elliot said into the phone, "Thanks, John." He hung up and moved slowly back over to the kitchen table. He sat in the seat he'd only moments ago vacated, next to Olivia, and looked at the man across from him. He sighed, a pained breath, and he thought to himself just how much Cassidy looked like his father. "Sir," he said, clearing his throat, "Your wife was involved in a clinical trial for a..."

"My Joannie," the distraught man interjected, "Always looking for the fountain of youth." He looked at Olivia and smiled. "You remind me of her, when I first met her. The sparkle in your eyes, I know what that means. I saw that glimmer in my Joannie's eyes every day." He reached for Olivia's hand and gave it a soft squeeze. "Never lose it, young lady. Whoever it is that brings that light into your life, never ever let go."

Olivia swallowed back a hard gulp and gave the man a small smile. She sent a furtive glance to Elliot, and said, "I don't plan to."

Elliot returned her tiny, loving look, winked at her, and then once again addressed Cassidy's father. "You know what the trial was for, then?"

Shane Cassidy nodded. "Some cream," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Supposed to erase wrinkles, or fill in lines, or some other nonsense that my angel didn't need." He brought a hand to his mouth and shook his head. "She was so beautiful."

Olivia smiled sadly, trying to hold back her own tears as she watched the man break. "I know she was."

Elliot, under the table, wrapped his hand over her right knee and held it there, comforting her. He kept his eyes on Shane, though. "Did she have any reactions? Did she have a problem with the cream, or the company?"

"Why are you asking me this?" the man questioned, suddenly worrisome. "Do you think it had something to do with why she...why she was..." he choked back a sob.

"It might," Elliot said, honestly. "Sir, we really want to find whoever did this, so anything you can tell us would help."

Shane took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and nodded. "She got some kind of rash...the third or fourth time she used it. She went to some overpriced dermatologist on the Upper East Side, he said he couldn't help her unless he knew what the stuff was. She called me, dragged me away from one helluva poker game to bring her the jar."

"Did the doctor tell her anything?" Olivia asked, her fingers now entangled with Elliot's on her knee. "Did he test the cream?"

"Joannie told me that we needed to get a lawyer," Shane said, nodding. He ran a hand down his weathered face and sighed again. "She was having a reaction to the chemicals in the cream." He looked at Elliot. "And some kind of...stems."

"Stems?" Elliot asked, raising a brow. "Like, from flowers? She was allergic to the plants in the cream?"

"No, no," Shane scrunched up his face and shook his head. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and flipped it open, filtering through the billfold for something. "Ah, here. I knew I would need this. This is what the dermatologist gave her. I was gonna bring it to a lawyer when Joannie found one..." he stopped. "But she never got the chance." He handed the folded up piece of paper out to Elliot.

Elliot took it, and with his one free hand, as he refused to let go of Olivia's, he unfurled and read it. "Holy shit, Liv, look," he held the paper out to her.

She read it, her eyes widened. "Stem cells," she said. "They'd need a licence, specialized equipment, certified researchers on staff..." she looked up at Elliot. "Do you know how many cosmetics companies have been sued and shut down for trying to use stem cells in their products without any of that?"

He nodded, re-folding the paper. "Thank you, Mister Cassidy," he said, nodding at the man. "You may have just given us the nest lead we've had in days." He begrudgingly let go of Olivia's hand and stood up. "We will let you and Brian know as soon as we..."

"Elliot," Brian's voice broke into the conversation from the doorway behind him, "Just nail the bastard. Please?"

Elliot turned around and looked at Brian Cassidy. He nodded once. "You got it." He slowly reached out a hand.

Brian took a deep breath and nodded back, accepting the handshake. He leaned a bit closer and said, "You take care of her, you hear me?"

"Always have," Elliot said firmly. "Always will."

Brian nodded again, this time toward Olivia, and he watched two people he used to work with walk out of his apartment. He closed his eyes and tried to keep the sick feeling in his stomach at bay. He turned to look at his father and moved to make him a cup of strong coffee, suddenly wishing he was still working SVU so he could be the one that bagged the bastard who killed his mother.

Squad Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

Elliot took off his jacket as soon as he walked into the squad room. He tossed it over the back of his chair and immediately moved toward the table in the back. He made two cups of coffee, fixing them the same way. He turned around, blowing on one as he carefully walked back toward his desk. He dropped the one he'd tried to cool off in front of Olivia.

She looked up at him with tired but grateful eyes. "You're a God."

"So you tell me," he joked, sitting down in his seat. He looked around, noticing the emptiness of the room. His eyes met hers again and he said, "I love you."

Her brows rose a bit and she bit her lip. She let her own eyes wander around the room before saying, "I love you, too, but why are you..."

"Because," he cut her off, "I know exactly what was going through your head when we were talking to Cassidy's father. The look he saw, the light in your eyes, he knows what it is, and so do I. I swear, on my life, I will never let that light fade."

She smiled at him, grabbed her coffee cup and brought it to her lips, and let her eyes narrow a bit as she sipped. "Ditto," she said, winking. She looked around again. "Where the hell is everybody?"

A voice from the other side of the room said, "Fin and Munch are on their way to Violux."

Olivia turned to look at Cragen. "I thought we were supposed to..."

"We couldn't wait for you," Cragen interrupted. "He called the other families. They all had similar stories. Someone at Violux had real motive, here, and I don't want to say this, but I think..."

"They were being used as lab rats," Elliot finished for him, nodding. He waved a finger between Olivia and himself. "We were thinking the same thing."

Cragen crossed his arms and took a few steps closer to Elliot. "I'm actually glad we're the only ones here, right now, because I need to ask you a question and, for the love of God, Elliot, I need an honest answer this time."

Elliot rolled his eyes. "Christ," he snapped. "My personal life really isn't any of your business. It's not affecting the case, it's not affecting how I work, or how I..."

"I got an interesting phone call from Ed Tucker," Cragen said, once again cutting off Elliot's words. "He wanted me to let you know that, uh, after some digging and checking, the answer to your question is 'no."

A smirk grew on Elliot's chiseled face and he leaned back in his chair. "Oh, well, uh, thanks." He looked at Olivia and his smile grew a bit wider.

"What question?" Cragen asked.

"I just asked him if there was any code or policy in the books that prohibits a relationship between people in the same unit, or partners," Elliot answered, honestly. "I was asking for a friend."

With a skeptical scowl on his face, Cragen said, "Oh, yeah? What friend? And I would think long and hard about digging your hole any deeper, Stabler."

Elliot licked his lips. "Grant," he said. "Up in Computer Crimes. He's got a thing for his partner. He felt like an ass asking, because he's never even met anyone at One-P-P, so I did him a favor."

"Yeah?" Cragen asked, accusingly.

"Yeah," Elliot returned, sternly, seriously, and unfaltering.

Cragen, through gritted teeth, said, "I am not blind, and I'm not an idiot, Elliot. If there's something going on with my detectives, I need to know about it, and I don't need to worry if you're lying to me about it!"

Elliot stiffened, straightened up, and said, "So don't worry about it." He narrowed his eyes as he picked up his pen, setting off to fill out the paperwork on his desk. "But I have to ask, Cap," he tilted his head. "Why the hell have you been lying to us?"

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	7. Chapter 7

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Apartment of Olivia Benson, 203 W. 89th Street, 4D, Manhattan, New York

"You didn't have to yell at him like that," Olivia scolded, pulling her sweater off over her head. She tossed it into the hamper with a small grunt, pissed off.

Elliot, unbuckling his belt, snapped back at her. "He lied to us! For years! You know damn well he only did it out of spite!" He shook his head and scoffed, letting his black slacks drop around his ankles. He kicked them off in the direction of the hamper. "I should have realized when the bullshit between you and Cassidy..."

"Will you stop bringing that up?" she interrupted, her eyes wide. "It was one fucking night with..."

"It happened!" he boomed, his jaw clenched as he hurled his shirt into the laundry bin. "I can't fucking help being pissed off about it! And Cragen didn't do shit, he just sort of looked at you disapprovingly, so why is it that whenever I asked him, or it looked like I was getting too close to you, he made it a point to bring up policy-this and guideline-that?"

She rubbed the middle of her forehead and sighed. "You heard him," she said. "He thought he was doing what was best for the unit."

"Fuck the fucking unit!" Elliot spat, standing in nothing but a pair of grey boxer-briefs. His nostrils were flaring, his chest heaving, and his face was a tinge redder than normal. He looked at her, then, seeing the fear and obvious hurt in her eyes. He closed his own and took a deep breath. "I know, okay?" he intoned. "I know we've screwed up in the past, that we made choices that put a case...or a victim...in jeopardy. But what the hell was he trying to prevent by making us scared to death of..." he heaved another sigh and shook his head again. "It didn't stop us, it just made us fucking paranoid."

She bit her lip as she moved toward him, in her black lace bra and panties, a set she knew he remembered well. She placed her open palms on his chest and smoothed along the expanse of it, calming him. "You still...really yelled at him."

He looked down at her and nodded curtly. "Yeah, and he didn't do shit about it, so what does that tell you? He knows he lied, he knows we caught him, and he knows his worst fear is probably being realized." He dropped his head to hers and curled his arms around her. He grew quiet, moving from side-to-side with her in his embrace, his eyes shut and breath coming slow and easy now. He kissed her once. "I don't really give a shit what he does, to be honest. I have you, right where I want you, where I need you to be, and if that means something changes at work, then I can deal with it." He kissed her again. "It's a small price to pay."

She smiled, but only slightly, and dropped light kisses to his chin, neck, and chest. "Amen to that," she said with a tiny laugh, and then she looked up at him, her eyes half closed and her grin turning wicked. "You, uh, you're hot when you're pissed."

His lids dropped to slits and he chuckled, a low, rumbling. "Oh, I know you think so. All those years watching you watching me in interrogation? I figured out what you were thinking a long time ago." He worked one hand up to the middle of her back, fiddling with the clasp of her bra. "You want me," he said smugly.

"Not gonna deny that," she said with a half-shrug, her own fingers dancing along his elastic waistband. She gave a tug, pulling the cotton down over his right hip, letting her index finger tease the cut in his muscle. "You want me, just as much."

"Fuck, yeah I do," he told her with a nod, finally feeling the hooks give and slipping the bra away from her skin. "Always have, always will." He dropped the lacy garment to the floor and dragged his thick, rough hands down her body to play at her panties. He chuckled again, this time sounding more seductive than evil, and he slowly rolled the material over her hips. "You are so fucking beautiful," he whispered. "I don't tell you that enough."

"You tell me all the time," she whispered back, wrapping her hand around his freed cock. She stroked him slowly, craning her neck to kiss his lips.

He moaned against her lips in protest. "Not enough," he grumbled, sliding his left hand between her legs. He skimmed upward, dragging the side of his hand through her folds. He groaned, feeling her wetness and hearing her light gasp. He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, beseechingly.

She complied, parting her lips, kissing him deeply. She began to stroke him harder and at the insistence of his fingers, spread her legs a bit for him. She whimpered when he pushed his middle finger up and into her. "El," she breathed.

He moved, keeping his finger working inside of her, moaning as she tugged on him. He backed her up, and when her legs hit the bed, he propelled them onto the mattress and kissed her hungrily. He added another finger, twisting them, making her curse into his mouth, and he shifted his body onto hers completely.

She felt him grab her wrist and move her hand, but her eyes were shut tightly as she nipped and snapped at his lips. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his body move into position, readying. She took a breath and held it, anticipating, and just as she felt him being to push inside of her, he stopped. Her eyes opened. "What's wrong?"

He smiled down at her. "Absolutely nothing." With another deep, slow kiss, he slid home.

Squad Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

"All right, thanks," Munch said, hanging up a phone. "Damn it." He checked his watch and looked across his desk at Fin. "What time did Benson and Stabler leave?"

Fin shrugged and made a face. "Two hours ago, maybe?"

Munch sighed and shook his head. "I hate calling them like this," he mumbled, picking up the phone again.

"What happened?" Fin asked. "Why can't we handle it?"

Munch eyed Fin for a moment. "It's their case," he said. "I have to call them."

Fin rolled his eyes. "Well, what's the rush?"

Covering the receiver and glaring over his glasses at Fin, he said, "They found another body, in front of a dumpster...behind Violux."

Softening, Fin lowered his eyes. "Man," he said. "I thought we had the bastard."

"So did I," Munch said, returning his attention to the call that had finally been answered, by a very irritated sounding Elliot.

Violux Engineering, East 182nd Street, Manhattan, NY

"I know what time it is," Elliot said, trying to keep his temper in check. "I was in bed, too, so I understand your frustration. Believe me, I am...just as frustrated." His eyes twitched, signifying he may have been more than just frustrated. Munch's call had interrupted what would have been a mind-blowing experience, and having it cut short was causing him a lot of discomfort.

The blonde woman standing in front of him tugged on her lab coat and sighed as she rubbed her eyes. "I was on my way in, anyway, but to be so rudely accosted by police..."

"The wife of your founder, and boss, was found raped, beaten, and dismembered behind this building," Olivia interrupted. "We didn't accost you, we just figured you might like to help up find the scumbag responsible."

The woman was taken aback, seemingly offended. "Of course, I do," she said haughtily. She walked around the detectives and headed behind the front desk. "What exactly do you need from me?"

"Security tapes, for a start," Elliot said, "And then I need the answer to a question my partner and I have been asking for two days." He eyed the woman suspiciously. "Where is your boss? We keep getting run around in circles, so before we have to take a more severe and direct approach, down at the station, tell me where we can find Doctor Luxemburg."

The woman folded her arms. "What makes you think I have any idea?"

"You're here all night, all morning, so you must have some idea," Olivia said, placating.

The woman narrowed her eyes at Olivia. "I am here working, not playing pet-the-kitty with my boss!"

Elliot rubbed his chin to hide a chuckle. "I'm not asking if you're sleeping with him, I'm asking if, as his partner and colleague, you know where he is."

The blonde rolled her eyes and sighed, and then moved to her computer. She pulled up a calendar program, typed in her password, and drummed her fingers as she waited for it to load. "According to this, he's on vacation." She looked up at Elliot. "I don't know where, but he has the last two weeks completely blocked out."

"Thank you," Olivia said, nodding politely. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

With an exasperated sigh, the woman clipped her name tag to her coat. She shot Elliot a hard look, glanced almost disdainfully at Olivia, and then walked away.

Elliot tilted his head and squinted, and then he turned and licked his lips. "Did you see that?"

"Yeah," Olivia said, poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue. "That's not a common name."

"And it can't be a coincidence," Elliot said, shifting his weight onto one foot. He was still uncomfortably frustrated.

"We need to head down to holding," Olivia said, "And pay Pettruchio a little visit."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	8. Chapter 8

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Front Seats, Maroon Sedan, Expressway, Manhattan, New York

"I just can't see it," Elliot said, a smile on his face and the remains of a laugh in his voice. "Tell me you have pictures of this."

"Uh, no," Olivia said with disdain. "I wouldn't let anyone near me with a camera, dressed like that, are you kidding?"

"Shit, baby," he chortled. "Why didn't you ever tell me that before?"

She shrugged as she brushed her hair out of her eyes. "It never came up, for one thing. We've only had one real heart-to-heart about life in high school, and, uh, it kind of made me never want to have another one." She gave him a pointed look, her smirk coming to more of a scowl.

He grinned at her. "You're fucking hot when you're jealous." He blew her a playful kiss as he turned the wheel, leading the car onto a side-road. "I would've loved to have been there. To see you in that uniform." He licked his lips and made a noise like a wounded wolf.

She rolled her eyes again. "Oh, my God, it was just one game, my freshman year, and I quit at halftime when some blonde bimbo wanted me to get on top of the pyramid and leap off of it." She chuckled at the memory. "When I said no, she called me a bitch, so I threw my pom-poms onto the field and punched her."

He laughed again and said, "Oh, you would've lasted a lot longer than one game if you were cheering for me, though, right?"

Her eyes glimmered as she looked at him, the side of his face catching in the glow of the street-lights. "Absolutely," she said with a firmness she didn't quite understand. "Stabler, number twelve," she said, "Definitely worth shaking those pom-poms."

He let out a low growl, his eyes slanting toward her. He pulled the car into a parking spot, turned it off, and unhooked his seat-belt. He leaned over the center console and said, "I may not be number twelve anymore, but, uh, I still get to see you, uh, shake your pom-poms, huh?"

She tilted her head, cupped his face in her hands, and brushed her lips against his lightly. "Anytime you want," she whispered.

"You're killing me," he whimpered, bridging the small gap between them and kissing her hard and fast. His hands flew around her waist and he held her for a moment before pulling away breathlessly. "Fuck," he hissed, slamming an open palm against the side of the steering wheel. He glared at the station house and mumbled, "We really have to go back in there? Right now?"

With a glum look in her eyes, she nodded. "Hopefully, someone in there has something we can use, before we have to start over...or worse...let this case go..."

"Don't say it," he warned, finally opening his door. "This isn't going cold. We're gonna find this sick son-of-a-bitch." He looked at her. "And then I'm taking you home."

She watched him get out of the car and her eyes grew wicked when he slammed the door. "Home," she said to herself, getting out of the sedan and following after her partner.

Squad Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

"Something doesn't add up," Olivia said, a pen in her left hand and a cup of hot coffee in her right. She sipped and shook her head, pondering.

"A lot of things don't add up," Munch said, staring at her, "Like why you haven't complained about this guy you're seeing. Usually, by now, you complain."

Olivia scoffed. "I meant about the case," she shot back, taking another sip of coffee.

Elliot jumped in before Munch could delve any deeper into her personal life; they'd both already done more than enough to raise suspicion. "Petrucchio admitted to giving his sister a list of his wealthy, elderly clients." He drummed his fingers on his desk. "But he swears he had nothing to do with the murders, or the rape of..."

"Benson! Stabler!" Cragen's voice broke into the conversation. "Morales needs you upstairs. Go! And I need to talk to you, Stabler, when you come back." He shot Elliot a hard glare. "And you two," he looked at Munch and then at Fin, "I need you to do me a favor." He handed Munch a folded piece of paper. "I need this file pulled. It's a cold case."

Fin rolled his eyes. "Man, we have to go to the crypt?" he moaned, standing. "It smells like my grandma's attic down there." He saw the fierce look he was getting from Cragen, and with solemn submission, he followed Munch out of the room, right behind Olivia and Elliot.

Squad Room of the Technical Assistance Response Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

"We don't have all night," Elliot huffed, looking down at his watch.

Ruben Morales rolled his eyes and sighed. "Give me a second to pull up the footage, would you?"

Elliot squinted at the man. "Cragen said you wanted us up here, we're here, and you're not even..."

"Yeah, well, usually when I ask for you I have an hour or two before you make your way up here," Morales interjected, his eyes narrow.

Olivia, yawning, said, "Can you guys put the ruler away? I'd like to get a solid lead on this case."

Morales eyed her for a moment, cleared his throat, and turned his attention back toward the computer monitor. He moved the mouse, made a few clicks, and hit a few keys on the board, and then he spoke. "Watch this side of the screen, closely."

They both stared intently, and as the same moment, they both gasped and their eyes widened. "Play that again," Elliot ordered, waving a frantic finger at the screen. "Can you clear it up? Maybe zoom in?"

Morales laughed. "Stabler, I can get a clear view up his nose if that's what you want, but it's not going to change anything." He turned to Olivia as he said, "He's your guy."

Olivia watched the clip again, this time her right hand gripped Elliot's arm and her lip caught between her teeth. She blinked a few times, rather quickly, and turned to him. "I know Cragen needs to talk to you, but...we should take care of this first."

"Yeah," he agreed, discreetly slipping her hand away from his bicep, not willing to let Morales in on their secrets. Or lies. "We should." He looked back at Morales. "Thanks."

Morales nodded at them and watched them leave his squad room, and then he chuckled to himself. "They're cute," he muttered as he cracked his knuckles, and then he got back to work.

Apartment of Brian Cassidy, Brooklyn, New York

"What are you doing here?" Brian asked, opening the door only a crack. He hadn't shaved in days, it seemed, and he didn't look as though he'd slept at all, either. "Did you find him?"

Olivia shot a glance toward Elliot, warning him, and then spoke softly, "Please, sit."

"Oh, no," Cassidy laughed, turning his back on the two detectives. He knew they'd let themselves in, so he walked toward his couch and picked up his forgotten beer bottle. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table and said, "Bad news? I can take it."

Olivia exhaled and sat next to him, hating herself for what she was about to ask him. "Look, uh, we need to know...if you know..."

"We have your father, on tape, leaving the scene of the last murder," Elliot said, as gently as he could, but fast. He watched Olivia glare at him, and he shrugged. "Rip the Band-Aid off, right?"

Olivia shook her head and rolled her eyes, and then looked back at Cassidy. "We aren't accusing him, we just need to know..."

"That lab?" Brian asked, looking down and away from her. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he heard her say yes. His eyes closed. "He was there," he almost whispered. "He wanted to find...he went to see if..." he choked on his words but his eyes flicked toward Olivia. He smiled, wondering if, in a different time, or different place, she would be here as a comforter rather than an interrogator. "He went looking for the...the rest of my...my mother." He stumbled over the last few words as a sob broke through them and his right hind flew to his mouth.

Elliot hated watching him break. They were never friends, but he would never wish this kind of anguish on him. "Did he tell you if he found..."

"He didn't," Cassidy interrupted, instinctively reaching for Olivia's hand, but wisening-up enough not to actually take hold of it. He dropped it to the bit of couch between him and her, and he looked at Elliot with raw, red eyes. "He talked to some woman, gave him an attitude, so he went around back and looked through the dumpsters. He came up empty."

Elliot took a long breath, looked at Olivia, and held his palms out and up, as if asking her permission to do something neither one truly wanted done. When she gave him a single, sad nod, he cleared his throat. "There was a body...in one of those dumpsters. The wife of the doctor who ran that lab, and the trials your mother took part in, so if you know..."

"You think my father could do that?" Brian asked, growing angry and irritated. "Get the hell out of my..."

"Son," a weak voice interrupted from the kitchen entryway. "Relax. If I were them, well, I would think I did it." Shane Cassidy moved into the living room and dropped into a cushioned chair. He sighed and folded his feeble hands. "Detectives, I swear to you, there was no body when I was diving through those dumpsters. You said you have me on tape? Running, well, as fast as I'm able to, I assume?"

"Yeah," Elliot said, nodding. "We do."

Shane hummed and turned his attention toward Olivia. "I ran, because the doors opened. Someone else was heading for the dumpster and I...well, as you can guess, I didn't want to be found there." He looked back to Elliot. "I can tell you it was a man, and just as I made it around the bend, I heard...or, I thought I heard him say...she was another failure."

Elliot looked at Olivia. "Maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Guy who came out after him dumped the body and went back into the building?"

Olivia gave him a pensive look. "We need to find out who left the building through that door, around the same time."

"Card-locks," Elliot nodded. "Looks like we have to go back to Violux."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	9. Chapter 9

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Captain's Office, Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, NY

Elliot looked down at his watch, huffed, and rolled his eyes as he sulked in the cushioned chair. His knee was bouncing, he was agitated and impatient, and he folded his arms as he looked up at Cragen. "What was so important? You called when we were on the way to..."

"Are you out of your mind?" Cragen interrupted, eyes narrow.

"Excuse me?" Elliot returned, just as severely. "I was on a case, with my partner...who you just sent out into the field with someone else! And you called me back here, for what, exactly?"

Cragen sneered at him, almost like an angry father. "There's an incredibly fine line between keeping something a secret and lying, you do know that, don't you?"

Elliot stiffened and the small hairs on the back of his neck stood upright. "What?"

"Not only did I flat out ask...but I gave you the chance, more than once, to tell me the goddamned truth!" Cragen began to redden, and he took a few steps closer to Elliot as he pointed and jabbed in his direction. "You lied...looked me in the eyes and denied everything, and you had the balls to make me feel guilty for even thinking..."

"What was I supposed to do?" Elliot yelled, cutting him off. "You were already pissed off, if I had told you the truth you probably would've fired me, or her, on the spot! I was trying to protect her!"

"No," Cragen shouted, "I just needed to know the truth, so I could figure out how to handle it. There's complications with shit like this, and I need to be aware so I can either avoid the fallout or keep an eye on you two before it got in the way of your jobs!"

Elliot laughed bitterly and shook his head. "Bullshit," he said. "You've been warning us against starting something for years, telling us in was against policy." He caught Cragen's slightly guilty expression. "Yeah, I lied about that, too. I called Tucker to find out if me and Liv were in deep shit, and when I found out we weren't, I knew you had to have a personal reason."

"Yeah," Cragen breathed. "But not like it matters, now. You're serious about her?"

Elliot looked into Cragen's eyes, his lips a flat line, and he said, "Very. So what's it gonna be? She's not here, so I assume I'm the sacrificial lamb? Go ahead, tell me where I'm going!"

"Home," Cragen snapped, his nostrils flaring. "For the next three days."

Elliot shot him a hard look and raised an eyebrow.

"You're suspended, three days, without pay," Cragen affirmed. "Not for sleeping with your partner, but for insubordination. And if..." he paused. "It might be longer than three days, Elliot. You might be staying home until I can figure out if I can trust you."

"Oh, come on," Elliot groaned, rolling his eyes. "I lied about my personal life, which isn't any of your business, anyway."

Cragen clenched his jaw. "When it affects two of my detectives, and this unit, it is my business."

Elliot squinted. "What? Cap, it didn't affect..."

"You lied to me, several times, to the point where I actually felt..." Cragen stopped and shook his head. "I never thought you'd do that." He walked toward the door and opened it. "Go. Home. Three days, and if I need you out longer, I'll let you know." He bit his lip. "Or maybe I'll just send the message home with Benson."

Shaking his head in disgust, Elliot got out of his seat and left the office, grabbed his jacket off of his chair, and looked around the empty squad room. His eyes landed on Olivia's desk and he smiled. Three days was a small price to pay for being able to love her without fear of any consequences. He readjusted his desk blotter, grabbed his keys, and was about to leave the room, when Cragen ran out to stop him. He turned at the sound of his voice. "You change your mind?" he asked.

"No," Cragen said, white as a ghost and breathing fast. "You just...you have to get down to Mercy General."

Elliot furrowed his brow and was genuinely confused. "But you just said I was..."

"You are." Cragen stopped him before he could finish his sentence. "It's Olivia."

Elliot was gone before Cragen even blinked.

Waiting Room, Mercy General Hospital, Manhattan, NY

"What the fuck happened?" Elliot yelled, running toward Fin, who was pacing in front of the nurse's station. He grabbed Fin's collar and twisted, asking, more threateningly, "What happened to her?"

"Man!" Fin barked, shoving Elliot back. "Get off me!" He straightened out his shirt. "It wasn't my fucking fault!"

Tears sprang to Elliot's eyes. "What happened?" he asked again, desperately.

"We went back to Violux," Fin said with a sigh. "The nurse you talked to wasn't there, but some doctor...once he found out we were cops, he..." he took a breath and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. "He ran, she ran after him, I ran after her, but she turned the corner and by the time I got there, she was on the ground, unconscious."

"Where is he?" Elliot asked, his jaw tight and his teeth clenched. "Where is the son-of-bitch, Fin? Tell me you got him!"

Fin stared at Elliot for a moment. Slowly, he shook his head. "He was gone. I...I called a bus for Liv, I didn't leave her side until they got there in case she came to." He shook his head again. "By then, it was too late."

Elliot swallowed the rage and the bile that rose up from somewhere deep inside, and he tried to take slow, even breaths, knowing losing control now might mean losing Olivia. "Where is she?"

"They got her into a room," Fin began, "But they won't tell me anything since I'm not..."

"I am," Elliot said, cutting him off. He pushed Fin aside and pounded on the desk until a nurse turned around. He held up his badge. "I need to know where they took Olivia Benson."

"Look," the nurse said, tilting her head. "I already told the other detective, I can't tell you anything until her family..."

"I'm her husband," he spat, a darkness in his voice that scared himself.

The nurse looked puzzled. "Her chart doesn't say she's..."

"Newlyweds," he interrupted. "Please, just take me to her."

The nurse sighed, blinked a few times, as if thinking it over, and then resignedly said, "Follow me." She led him down a long white corridor and through wooden double-doors. "Her doctor is..."

"Elliot," a voice broke in, and a man in scrubs ran over to them. He held out a hand and waited.

Elliot shook the doctor's hand and said, "God, I'm glad it's you, Frank." He sounded almost relieved. "What happened? How is she? Where is she?"

"Breathe, bro," the doctor rested both hands on Elliot's shoulders. "She's fine. I just got her settled in a recovery room, she's still out, but she's fine." He took a breath and he said, "I'm not sure she would be if Fin wasn't there."

"If I was there, that bastard never would have touched her in the first place," Elliot said, his fury evident. "What did he to do her? Fin wouldn't tell me...couldn't tell me."

The doctor gave Elliot a tug, getting him to move, and led him toward Olivia's room. "He must have either gotten close enough to her to put something over her mouth, or somewhere on her skin." He looked at Elliot. "She had high levels of both ether, sevoflurane, and ketamine in her system. It's a lethal combination if it's injected, so it had to have been inhaled or absorbed directly through the skin." He pushed Olivia's door open.

"No way," Elliot said, shaking his head. "He wouldn't have been able to be that close to her. She had her gun."

The doctored hummed, and then said, "Fin said she was chasing him, so it's possible he just threw the stuff at her and got lucky." He grinned. "I have all of her clothes and personal effects in sealed bags for you, you can take them to my wife and see if I'm right." He winked at Elliot. "Go on in. I have her on an IV, and, uh, if all goes well she'll be up in a few minutes."

"Thanks," Elliot said, nodding once at Melinda Warner's husband, and then stepped into the hospital room. He rushed to the side of her bed and grabbed her hand, squeezing it hard as the tears he'd been fighting for the last thirty minutes fell. "Baby," he whispered, bringing her hand up to his lips, kissing every knuckle, "Baby,come on." He leaned over and with his free hand he brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. "Sweetheart," he said in a sing-sing manner, hoping to draw her out of her slumber.

She moaned, her eyes twitching slightly, and she turned her head. "No," she complained.

He chuckled, sniffling and wiping his eyes, and he said, "Baby, wake up."

"El?" she said hoarsely. She didn't open her eyes, but she squeezed his hand. "What the hell happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," he said, kissing her dry lips. "Honey, you're in the hospital."

"What?" she moaned, trying to lift her head. "Whoa, bad idea," she said, dropping her head to her pillow. She blinked her eyes open and said, "What...why..."

Elliot shook his head and shrugged. "I wasn't there," he whispered. "I'm so fucking sorry I wasn't there."

"Oh," she drawled out, remembering, "Oh, I...he threw a bottle at me...it shattered against the wall and whatever it was...i got so dizzy, and I...that's the last thing I remember."

He nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. "Baby, I love you, so much. I was a wreck until..." he started laughing. "I told the nurse I was your husband so she'd let me in here."

"Might as well be," she said dryly.

Elliot looked around, finding a small pitcher of water, and he poured her a cup, putting a straw in it. "Here, baby, drink." He watched her purse her lips around the straw and drink, and he sighed in relief, but came to a realization. "You're taking the next three days off."

She raised an eyebrow. "Did the doctor tell you something was wrong with me?"

He shook his head. "No, no," he said. "It's Frank, by the way." He smoothed her hair back again and smiled at her. "I, uh, got myself taken out of the game for lying to Cragen about us."

"Told you," she said with a small smirk. "He benched you for three days, and you don't want me working without you, that it?"

He nodded fast. "Shit like this happens when it's not me on your six, and I'm not...I can't..."

She saw his lip tremble and his eyes well up again, and she squeezed his hand. "I'm all right."

"I'm not," he told her honestly. "I'm not, and I won't be until I know that...for the rest of my life, it's me who's going to be there to protect you." He kissed her lips again and whispered, "Forever, Liv."

She nodded, her head against his as she moved, and she let her eyes close again. "Did we get him? Did Fin bring him in?"

Elliot's mood shifted again. "No," he told her. "But I think...now we know how he's been incapacitating his victims." He tried to smile. With a sigh, he kissed her again.

"Know who he is," she mumbled.

"What?" he asked, leaning closer to her. "Baby, what did you say?"

She rolled her head a bit, gave his hand another squeeze, and said, "I know who he is."

"Who, honey?" he asked, nuzzling her nose.

She smiled at him, let out a small laugh, and then a yawn. "Remember the kid from the apartments? Our amateur filmmaker?"

"Honey, we know he didn't do it," he said. "You're still woozy, maybe you're confused."

She shook his head. "El, it's...it's his father."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	10. Chapter 10

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Office of Captain D. Cragen, Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan

"How did you figure out it was his father?" Cragen asked, watching Olivia nervously pull at her clothes. "Relax, please? Just tell me..."

"You want me to relax?" she spat, her eyes narrow. "I feel like I'm on the other side of the table, here! Not exactly easy to relax."

Cragen sighed. "I just need to know, how you knew it was his father."

Rolling her eyes, she started drumming her fingers on the table. "When I was chasing him...before he threw that shit at me, he yelled at me for accusing his son and getting him into trouble. The only person young enough to be his son was the little pis-ant at the apartment complex, the schmuck who posted those videos on the internet." She brought her irritated eyes up to meet Cragen's. "Maybe he was trying to make his father famous, I don't know, but if you're not going to let me work the case, then can I please..."

"You're not suspended," Cragen interrupted. "You're taking the next two days off because you want to, not because..."

"Why?" she interrupted, scrunching up her face. She gave him an acrimonious glare.

Cragen tilted his head and crossed his arms. "Why, what?"

"You suspended him, not me," she said, leaning back in the chair. "He told me it was for insubordination, because he lied to you, but I wasn't exactly forthcoming about my relationship with him, either."

"You didn't lie to my face and yell at me for treating you like shit," Cragen countered. "Besides, you didn't need a suspension in your jacket, I figured you..."

"But he did?" she said, cutting him off again. "He has more black marks than I do, and you know Tucker just needs needs an excuse to..." her eyes narrowed again as she stopped speaking, and then widened. "You're not trying to get him..."

"No! God, no," Cragen held up a hand and stopped the absurd thing she was about to say. "I couldn't overlook what he did, Olivia. I asked him, more than once, and he lied. He needed the same slap-in-the-face he gave me, it was deserved. You can't tell me it wasn't."

She bit her lip again, then, and nodded as she looked away from him. She got out of her chair and moved toward the door, but stopped. "Why does it matter?"

"Excuse me?" Cragen dropped his arms and moved away from his desk, toward her.

Turning to look at him, there was a more distraught look in her eyes, but she eased some of the tension in her body. "Why does it matter so much? God, years ago, you knew something happened with Cassidy, and that didn't..."

"Yeah, and then suddenly, he talks to a vic, he can't handle the conversation, and he's outta here," he said, looking at her pointedly.

"You...you sent him to talk to her, knowing it would be enough to make him leave? Because of me?" She looked somewhere between surprised and sick.

Cragen scratched at the back of his for a moment. "He was losing his grip on the job anyway, and he let his personal feelings for you affect how he worked, how the two of you worked together." He looked at her, almost as a father would look at his daughter. "I had to stop it before it got out of hand, do you understand that? He was about to sacrifice an entire case because he couldn't put his wounded ego and feelings for you aside."

Olivia shook her head incredulously and said, "You really have no idea..." she swallowed and licked her lips, took a breath, and said, "Have Elliot and I ever screwed up a case? I mean, because of each other, not...not something clerical."

Cragen had to think, hard, and then he whispered, "Gitano."

Olivia held her breath, nodded once, and said, "Yeah, well, that was...that was different. I couldn't..." she shook her head, shirking away the memory. "The point is, no matter how pissed at him I was, or how in love with him I am, or whatever, it has never been a problem to the point of costing us the case." She chuckled to herself, almost cruelly. "God, we may have done things a little unethically, or used a couple of unorthodox methods, but whatever we did it was for the vic, to nail the perp, and we have never, ever, let a case come second."

Cragen let out a breath he'd only just realized he'd been holding. "How long has this been going on? You and him, huh? What exactly am I missing, here?"

Without hesitation, without even batting an eyelash, she glared at Cragen and said, "Years. I knew it was serious after Gitano. It's why I left, because I was...or at least, I thought I following your asinine rules! It's also why I came back, because I am shit without him and he's goddamn useless without me!" She saw the astounded look on his face and clarified. "It's only been an honest-to-God relationship since Kathy left him, but it was everything but physical for...years."

"You've been in love with him...the whole time?" Cragen blinked, confused. "You didn't care that he was married, or that you..."

Her rancorous laugh cut him off. "I told you nothing really happened until Kathy left, we were a couple of little angels, but the feelings? They've always been there, and they just got stronger, and more intense, and when that ring came off his finger...we did something about it."

Exhaling sharply and staring at Olivia, Cragen shrugged with outstretched arms and asked, "Now, what am I supposed to do about it?"

"Well, we know the stunt you pulled with Cassidy isn't going to work," she said with a scoff. "He already thinks you're..."

Cragen held up a hand and closed his eyes. "You're the best team I've got, and you were right, before, when you said you...you always put the case first, no matter how violently you argue about it, so I..." he looked into her eyes, a slight warmth hidden behind the annoyance. "The first time I see, even the slightest hint that your personal relationship is getting in the way, one of you is out of here. But he already talked to Tucker, so until then...I can't stop you."

"You couldn't anyway," she said, turning on her heels again and grabbing the doorknob. Cragen's voice stopped her this time. She gripped the brass handle, willing herself to leave and ignore the question, but she'd hidden enough from him already. She looked over her shoulder and smiled as she answered his question. "Yes," she said, a half-whisper, "I love him more than anything." She didn't say another word, and she didn't wait for a reaction, she simply turned the metal knob in her hand and walked out of Cragen's office, heading home, to Elliot.

Apartment of Olivia Benson, 203 W. 89th Street, 4D, Manhattan, New York

"Jesus Christ," Elliot panted, his chest rising and falling fast and hard. He laughed, staring at the ceiling. "What the hell brought that on?" He gave a sidelong glance to Olivia, who was grinning smugly.

She ran the tip of her index finger in spiraling patterns over his glistening chest, chuckling when his muscles twitched and his moans hit her ears. "I love you," she said.

"You got into it with Cragen," Elliot surmised, raising his hand and brushing her hair back. He gave a gentle, teasing tug and scraped his teeth along his bottom lip. "What did he say that warranted you coming home and, uh, having your way with me?"

With a gleam in her eye, she pushed aside the bed-sheets, looped one leg over Elliot's body, and worked her way atop him, in a straddle. Her hands fell to his waist, one teasing up and down his chest and the other slowly stroking his still semi-hard cock back to full rigor. "It wasn't what he said," she told him, eyeing him wantonly. "It's what I said to him, baby." She brought the tip of his dick to the perfect spot, and then slowly rocked her body, taking him in with a soft, low, long moan.

"Oh, my God," he seethed, sliding his hands up her sides and down her back, watching her eyes as she started to slowly ride him. "What did you say?"

"I realized," she bit her bottom lip and her glare grew more prurient, lustful, and needy, "how long I've been in love with you, how long I've needed you, El, right here, like this."

He got a grip on her hips, almost moving her body himself, moaning her name softly. "Liv, baby, I think you know..."

"You've been in love with me just as long," she finished for him, nodding as she picked up some speed. She bent over just a bit, letting her hair fall around Elliot's face. "Right, baby?" she asked, breathless, her lips brushing against his.

"Damn right," he said firmly, nodding, and then he craned his neck and kissed her hard, still ushering her hips, urging them to move harder and faster. He groaned against her lips and then bucked his body upward, making her squeal just a bit.

They shared a laugh and Olivia felt Elliot pushing her back upright. She raised an eyebrow at him and offered a wicked grin.

He was hitting up, forcing himself deeper into her each time, and he moved his hands to her breasts, squeezing and rolling her nipples between his fingers. He watched her head drop back, her jaw fall open, and he heard his name, sounding more incredible and miraculous than it ever had before. "Fuck, baby," he growled.

She smiled down at him, moving her hands down his chest, and then up her own body until she curled them over his hands. She pressed her fingers into his, forcing him to squeeze her breasts harder, making her cry out his name again. "Tell me," she moaned, and she let out a whimper that told him she was close to exploding.

He twisted his wrists and grabbed her hands, linking their fingers, and he pulled her down to him, hard. He felt her clenching, clamping around him, and slammed upward, thrusting into her harder. Each hit of his body against hers was punctuated by a grunt. He nuzzled her nose for a moment and then whispered, "I love you."

"Yeah?" she asked coyly, rolling her body over his, taking him in deeper.

"Fuck, yeah," he said with a nod, and then he kissed her, a powerful, passionate kiss that was meant to pass everything he was feeling along to her. He felt her tighten, felt her body go rigid, and her guttural cry reverberated in his mouth as he caught it with his kiss. With one final thrust, he came, growling against her lips and firing a hot stream into her.

She stopped moving, stopped breathing, and gripped him tighter as she felt him pulsing and twitching inside of her. She convulsed again, moaning his name softly over and over, as another easy orgasm flowed over her. "Oh, my God," she breathed against his lips.

The pair laughed and kissed, relishing in the post-coital moment of sheer happiness, knowing how few and far between they always were, treasuring it.

She pulled away from a sweet kiss and rubbed her nose against his, her smile reaching the corners of her eyes, and when she saw the swirls of emotions in his eyes, mirroring her own, she gave him one small peck. "I love you, too, El." She took a breath. "So much."

He inhaled slowly, trying to regulate his heartbeat, and he shifted to his left, rolling onto his side and draping his arm over her body. He kissed her again and a long yet blissful moment of silence passed between them. "Forever, right?"

She moved closer to him and nodded. "Longer than that." She kissed him one last time as her eyes closed and her head dropped to his chest. "I promise."

Lobby of the West End Apartments, Riverside Drive, Manhattan, NY

"Do you want to tell them?" Munch asked, looking down at his phone in his hands. He placed a finger over the 'send' button and held the phone out to his partner.

Fin looked at him as if her was crazy. "You're out of your goddamned mind, man," he snapped. "I like breathing. I'm not breaking this to them."

Munch shook his head. "I just can't believe this guy would kill his own son. For what reason?"

"Better question, why was this punk out of the lockup? Someone bailed this guy out? It wasn't Daddy Dearest." He shot his eyes toward Fin. "He wouldn't spring him from the clink just to kill him, would he?"

Fin looked down at the sealed bag in his hand, the bloody scalpel glistening in the lobby's light. "Maybe," he hummed and looked up at Munch. "This guy is going after people who are trying to bring down his company. He thought his kid was a liability." He looked around and then moved closer to Munch. "Here's a question," he said, licking his lips. "Where is he getting the stem cells in the first place? We find the supplier, man, and that is a whole new set of charges to bring up."

Munch hung up the phone and looked at Fin, puzzled. "Neither one of them is answering their phone." He tilted his head. "Stem cells...those are found in umbilical cords and..."

"Yeah," Fin said nodding, "So we go back to Violux. See if that nurse is feeling chatty." He moved, heading out into the night.

Munch, his brow furrowed, looked down at his phone again. "Strange," he mumbled, and then sighed as he took off, following his partner.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	11. Chapter 11

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Office of Sgt. Ed Tucker, Internal Affairs Bureau, One Police Plaza, Manhattan, New York 

"Why the hell are we here?" Elliot fumed, his voice dripping with aggravation as his knee bounced nervously.

Olivia stifled a bitter laugh as she eyes him, smirking. "Three guesses." She sighed and turned to look at Tucker's door, dreading the moment it would open. "We lied to Cragen about us. A few times, actually. You were suspended for three..."

"The suspension was lifted," he interrupted. "We got a break in the case, Cragen called, practically begging us both to work..."

"Okay, okay," she said, cutting him off and holding up both hands. "Relax. I'm not the one you should be snapping at."

He sighed and slumped further down into his chair. "I know." He held out his hand, palm up, and gave her a pathetically pitiful puppy-eyed look.

Chuckling, she rested her hand in his, and the moment the knob turned, she said, "I love you."

"That's nice, unfortunately, you're not my type, Benson," Ed Tucker chided, walking into his office without looking up from the file in his hands. He dropped it to his desk, it landed with a slap, and he sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you two?"

"Look, I can explain," Elliot began, stiffening. "This started a long time ago, and it's pretty serious. There aren't any actual regulations against it, so we thought there was no real harm in keeping it just between..."

"Stabler, what in the ever-loving fuck are you fucking talking about?" Tucker intruded, his eyebrows knitted and a look of pure bewilderment on his face.

Elliot balked, swallowed hard, and looked from Tucker to Olivia and back again. "I thought...I mean, you called us in here to..."

"I called you in here to talk about your records, not string you up because you're going heels-to-Jesus with your partner!" Tucker snapped, and then pointed a finger at him. "You keep that shit out of work and we don't have a problem. It's not my fault Captain Sensitive is pissed off, but I can't really do shit about fuck where your personal lives are concerned."

"Oh, thank God," Elliot breathed, pressing a hand to his pounding heart. "So, why are we here, exactly?"

"This," Tucker said, taking up the folder he'd had when he walked in, "Is your file, Stabler. I have Benson's, too, you're both up for review. Now, I may not have the world's greatest memory, and I sure as hell don't keep tabs on every fucking move you two assholes make, but I'm fairly certain these were a hell-of-lot thicker the last time I checked them!"

Olivia's head and ears had perked up at that. "Wait, what's missing? That could ruin us!"

"Why the hell do you think you're here?" Tucker shouted, frustrated. He tossed the folder to Elliot and then did the same with Olivia's file, throwing it to her. "You tell me. You figure out what those two novels have in common. I'll wait."

Elliot and Olivia were quiet for a few moments as they thumbed through their professional jackets. Simultaneously, they switched, and gave each other's file the same silent review. "I'm...what am I looking for, here, exactly?"

Tucker's eyes widened in awe of Elliot's sheer stupidity. "Benson, you want to tell him? Unless you, too, have gone completely fucking senseless."

Olivia snickered at the expression on Elliot's face, but she said, "Everything from Two-Thousand-Three is gone."

"Wait, what?" Elliot's voice cracked as he ripped his file back from Olivia. "A year? A whole goddamned year? How the hell..."

"Relax, Stabler," Tucker interjected, seeing Elliot's rage building. "I am not accusing either of you of doing this yourselves, I just need to know, what, if you can remember, happened in that time frame that someone would want stricken from the record? Maybe not to save your asses, because, face it, they don't really need saving at this point. If I was gonna fire either of you, I would have done it already."

Olivia looked at Elliot, fear evident in her eyes, the color draining from her face. "El?"

Elliot nodded. "I know," he said, biting his lip.

"Can the two of you share with the rest of the class?" Tucker griped, folding his arms.

Elliot grabbed and squeezed Olivia's hand and then looked at Tucker. "Alex."

Squad Room of the Special Victim's Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

"Where are we on this?" Cragen asked, walking into the middle of the room, his eyes narrow.

Munch cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up. "This guy's in the wind, Cap," he said. "The nurse gave us the goods, though, we have records, files, patient logs, we even have dates and locations of what they refer to as 'stem-cell extraction and retrieval." He peered over his spectacles knowingly as he handed Cragen a thin folder. "This one...uh...this one bothers me."

Cragen scanned the file, made an odd grunting noise, and thrust it back in Munch's direction. "Where the hell are Benson and..."

"Stabler?" Elliot questioned, barreling into the room. He threw his coat off and made a beeline for the coffeepot.

"What the hell happened to you?" Fin asked, one brow arched as he took in the harrowed sight of Olivia and Elliot.

Olivia crossed her arms and leaned against the edge of her desk. "Tucker," she said. "Someone screwed with our files. Erased a whole year of write-ups and...any reference to Cesar Velez, Rafael Zapata, or..."

"We will deal with missing black-marks on your permanent record later," Cragen interfered, his tone severe. "This case just hit a sickening turn, and you two need to follow the yellow-brick-road to find this son-of-a-bitch."

After downing two cups of rather weak coffee, Elliot tossed his cup in the trash can and walked back toward his partner. "What turn? What happened?"

"The lab was getting a healthy supply of stem cells from free clinics and small, privatized hospitals," Munch explained. "The transactions were recorded like any sale or trade would be, but what bugged me, was this one," he said, holding out the file to Olivia.

Olivia took it, flipped it open, and held it so Elliot could read it along with her. "Oh, my God, El," she whispered. She looked up and her eyes darted to Fin, and then to Munch. "Did you guys verify this?"

Fin nodded glumly. "Yeah," he said, twirling a pen in between his fingers.

Cragen looked at Olivia harshly, and then shot Elliot a more glaring expression. "It happened, and it's gonna happen again if you two don't get down there and find out what the hell is going on."

"We're on it," Elliot said, nodding, moving to pick up his coat. He looked at Olivia. "Who the fuck would willingly sell their unborn child, for stem cells?"

Olivia cringed. "These people make Davison and Langley look like saints." She looked at Elliot. "At least, what they did...those mother's weren't aware of what was happening to them or the fetuses."

Elliot walked with her toward the door of the squad room and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah," he said, "It doesn't make it right, but it certainly puts it into perspective." He rounded the corner, smirking at Olivia's bemused expression. "Come on," he said, jerking his head. "Let's take the stairs."

She gave him a crooked eyebrow and half-smirk, but followed his lead, as she always did. And always would.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	12. Chapter 12

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Office of Sgt. Ed Tucker, Internal Affairs Bureau, One Police Plaza, Manhattan, New York

"Well," Tucker sighed, pulling on his tie and leaning back in his chair, "I just got off the phone with someone at Quantico."

Cragen narrowed his eyes. "What? The FBI? What the hell does the..."

"Two-Thousand-Three," Tucker said, interrupting. "That was the year Alex Cabot, Assistant District Attorney was shot and killed, was it not?"

Cragen raised one brow. "You know she..."

Again, Tucker held up his hand and eyed Cragen, warning him. "That entire year...testimony, evidence, statements, from both Elliot and Olivia...gone. Do you know anything about that?"

Cragen let out a heavy breath and twisted his neck, rolling his shoulders as well. "I have an idea."

"Explain," Tucker said, narrowing his eyes. "You're supposed to protect them, not throw them under the fucking bus!"

"Since when do you care?" Cragen asked, confused. "Aren't you the one who's been trying to..."

"When they cause my migraines, yeah," Tucker said, pointing a finger and cutting Cragen off once more. "When the situation is out of their control, and they had no fucking choice in the matter? No, I'm not going to fuck them up for that." He rubbed a hand down his face and then across his chin. "They were pulled off the stand, they wouldn't have...no one was going to let them perjure themselves, but to erase every single mention of the case and Cabot? That makes them look fucking guilty as fuck!"

Cragen shook his head. "I didn't pull the records," he said, "But I know who did, and I know why. Alex...is coming back. Things cleared up, after the trial, and she was able to..."

"How the fuck does someone leave WitPro, and just walk back into their old life?" Tucker asked, not caring that, yet again, he stepped on Cragen's words. "Coming back? To this district? Like hell she is! She is a goddamned liability and you know it!"

"It's not my call," Cragen barked back. "McCoy gave the green-light, and like you told my detectives, they're up for review. You tell me. Would the Morris Commission overlook the concealment of evidence and ultimate entrapment? Even if the asshole was guilty as sin, they would throw the best team this city's got out into the dumpster without even blinking."

"And you want me to believe you didn't have this all stricken from their records," Tucker scoffed. "If you didn't, Don, then who the fuck did?"

Cragen sighed. "Like I said," he began. "She's coming back. Someone a little higher up on the food chain than me is allowing it to happen, and they didn't want anyone getting caught in the crossfire or hung out to dry because of a closed case that ended...well, it turned out all right for everyone involved, anyway." He bit his lip and turned his hat around in his hands for a moment. "Nothing else of note happened that year. You...you aren't missing any write-ups or disciplinary..."

"I know that look," Tucker hissed, interrupting Cragen one last time. "What else was there, huh? What don't you want the Morris Commission to find?"

Cragen held his breath and as calmly as he could, he said, "Nothing." He surprised himself. He didn't think he could lie that well.

Front Seats, Maroon Sedan, Parking Lot of the Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

Elliot had been staring at her since he turned the car off. He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a second before even attempting to speak. "Are you..."

"Don't." There was a severity in the warning, one that any man would be wise to heed. "Don't fucking ask me if I'm okay."

"Liv, I..." he saw her head turn sharply, noting the anger and pain in her eyes. He swallowed hard and took the chance of grabbing for her hand. He gripped it tightly and said, "I know. I know how badly you...we're trying, and I swear to God..."

"How?" she asked, her nostrils flaring as she shot hot breath out in a seethe. "How the hell does a mother...a human being..."

"Breathe," he said softly, pulling her hand a bit and forcing her head against his chest despite the center console between them. "I know, honey. I know." He kissed the top of her head and brushed her hair back, and he heard the sniffles start before he felt her tremble in his arms. "Those people...are sick, and selfish, and we're gonna find every single one of them, but you can't..."

"I know," she said, sniffling again. "I'm sorry, I just...I don't know why I got so emotional, I just...they were just babies, El! And they were...destroyed...obliterated before they even had a chance to...and for what? Some experimental treatment, which wouldn't even change the fact that..."

"Honey," Elliot said, stopping her, "I don't understand it, either, but we can't change it. We can stop it, though, if you calm down."

She took a deep breathe and blinked away the last of her angry tears. "Yeah," she whispered. "I'm calm." She wiped her eyes and looked up at her partner. She held his gaze as her breathing slowed and calmed, and she nodded once.

He smiled at her, bent his head forward, and captured her lips is a sweet, soulful kiss. His left hand wound around her neck, holding her closer, tighter, as he deepened the kiss and moaned into her opened mouth. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you," she returned, and she smoothed her hands up and down his back. She pulled away but as she turned to open the door, she stopped. She raised an eyebrow and asked him, "What's the date today?"

He furrowed his brows at her. "The seventeenth, why?"

A slow smile spread across her face and she winked at him before getting out of the car with a small chuckle and slamming the door behind her.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	13. Chapter 13

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Interrogation Room, Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

"No," a blond woman groaned, rolling her eyes. She pushed wire-rimmed glasses up on the bridge of her nose and crossed her arms. "I didn't tell anyone to do anything. I lost three years of my life, missed my mother's funeral because..." she stopped and glared at one of the older men in the room. "I deserve to be able to get my life back, my time spent living as someone else was hell, but I wouldn't have the evidence washed away, or treat it like it never happened!"

Tucker sighed and squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. "Alex, if it wasn't you who asked for this, then I need to know who else had anything to gain..."

"What makes you so sure their files were torn apart because of me?" Alex asked, her eyes narrowing. She let out what seemed like an evil snicker. "You know, they have their own secrets. That year...well, maybe you should ask them what happened." She tilted her head and turned from Tucker to Cragen. "Or maybe try asking Kathy Stabler. Oh, wait. What's her maiden name?"

Cragen's eyes shot open wide and he paled. "How could you possibly know about..."

Tucker snapped his head toward Cragen and cut into his speech. "You son-of-a-bitch," he barked. "Yesterday, in my office, you said...you said you had no idea what they could be hiding. Now, this ghost shows up and she knows all about it? Give it up, Don, or your detectives won't be the only ones being run through the gauntlet with the Morris Commission!"

"It was the year Stabler inadvertently caused the death of a suspect," Cabot said, speaking before Cragen could, a half-grin spreading across her face. "It was also the year you found out he once almost killed his own kid, and then Huang came to blows with him over his temper and violent streak, which cost you a conviction, by the way. Oh, uh, isn't that the year that Benson..."

"Okay," Tucker said, licking his lips. "Shut up, Blondie," he said shortly, and then turned back toward Cragen. "Tell me. Now."

Cragen slammed a hand down on the table and shouted through a clenched jaw, "None of your damn business! The missing pages are being reprinted and resigned, and then filed, so get off my ass!"

"What were you trying to hide?" Tucker asked, a bit softer. He lowered his voice and seemed to calm a bit. "I need to know what was worth risking..."

"Nothing," Cragen interrupted again, shaking his head. He bit his lip and then ran an open palm down his face. "And I told you, it wasn't me." He looked at Alex, anger in his glare. "And it was about you, for your information. Only the orders didn't come from the NYPD, and they sure as hell didn't come from me." He shot his eyes back to Tucker. "You want the whole truth, you need to call someone in the DEA. The Feds wanted certain things redacted from the records before the Morris Commission got to them, and the fact that it would cover Benson and Stabler's asses? Icing on the cake."

Alex looked honestly surprised, and she sat up a little straighter and asked, "So, you weren't trying to hide their affair?"

Cragen's face seemed to contort in slow motion, from anger to worry and then to pure surprise. "No, they...they wouldn't have lied to me, not..."

"No," Tucker said, saving Cragen the trouble and the panic. "The department doesn't give a shit about what people do when they're off the clock, as long as they're not breaking the law or abusing the badge. Besides, they weren't having an affair. They didn't start shit until Kathy left his ass." Tucker moved toward the door, but turned to look at Cragen. Seeming stunned by the disbelieving expression on the captain's face, he laughed. "You...you think I didn't know?"

Squinting and shaking his head, Cragen spoke. "You never said..."

"Don," Tucker said, chuckling. "Come on. My job? Internal Affairs." He blinked once. "Just like I know that the last person to have their hands on those personal records was you. So help me, please, before it's too late for me to help you."

Cragen took a deep breath, pulled out one of the metal chairs, and plopped into it. "Okay, Ed," he said, dejected and withered. "You, uh, you might want to sit down?"

Alex stiffened. "Should I leave?"

"No," Cragen said, looking at her. "I, uh, I might need a lawyer."

Squad Room of the Special Victim's Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

"What do you think is going on in there?" Olivia asked, picking at her cuticles and biting her lip. Her eyes were trained in the direction of the interrogation room.

"Alex's exorcism?" Elliot quipped, trying to bury himself in paperwork. "Jesus, is Novak trying to make this impossible for us? She's filed nine subpoenas and is demanding all of this shit to be faxed to her by..." he checked his watch, "Fuck, we only have an hour? What Olympian God did I piss off, today?"

"Zeus," Olivia said, shaking her head and refocusing on her own stack of statements and motions. "You got a little overzealous with that doctor."

Elliot turned his eyes up toward her and with a blank expression he said, "It's Tuesday." With a shrug, he added, "Tell me something surprising."

Without hesitation, she said, "Casey wants to sleep with you."

"I said surprising, not nauseating," he said, rolling his eyes. He looked over his shoulder, then. "Speaking of surprises, Cabot has a real set of brass ones, coming back like that. How are we supposed to just..."

"We got her through the worst time in her life, and we got justice for her and that...that sweet little boy," she interrupted, her tone soft but her body stiff. "Maybe she just wants..."

"I want a million dollars and the deed to a castle in Ireland," he said, injecting into her words. "We all want shit we can't really have. We don't even know how Casey and Alex are going to get along, if they'll step on each other's toes, compete or cooperate...and can we talk about the fact that everyone in this unit besides us thought she was dead until the trial? Even after it was over...there was no closure...she just left again. She can't expect us to treat her like nothing happened, like nothing's changed."

"I don't," Alex said, standing behind him. She'd walked into the squad room in time to hear the tail end of the conversation. "I know it's...it's going to be hard on...all of us."

Olivia took a breath. "Especially you. What about that guy you were..."

"He found out the truth about Emily," Alex sighed. "The night I left...well, again...I had to become someone...someone else, and I just..." she took a breath, closed her eyes, and on a long sigh, she slumped a bit and said, "I was so tired of living a lie. I based my whole life around fighting for truth, so how could I live with myself if I wasn't fighting for my own?" She opened her eyes again and took a few steps toward them. "I don't expect you to throw me a party, I just...I'm asking to give me a chance to find myself again."

Olivia swallowed a hard gulp, nodded, and then looked at Elliot. She furrowed her brow and tossed her pen at him, nailing him in the shoulder.

"I heard her," he said, not looking up. "Fine. Whatever, Alex. Do us a favor and go do your job, please. Maybe try to knock Novak off her fucking high horse." He held up a stapled packet of papers. "This is insane! Did you read this?"

Olivia grabbed the pages and flipped through them, one eyebrow raising. "Is she fucking for real?" She shook her head and handed the papers back to Elliot. "I'm not signing that. I'll go to McCoy if I have to."

Elliot snorted. "I got a feeling McCoy won't do shit," he seethed, shaking his head. "I already called him, twice, about this crazy bitch." He bent his head to continue reading, but then popped it back up and looked at Olivia. "Two questions."

"Okay," she said, nodding once at him. "Go." She crossed her arms and waited.

"One," he said, holding up a finger, "Do you think she's making our lives hell because Cabot's back?"

"I don't see why she would," Olivia said, "And Alex is right behind you, so maybe try not to talk about her like she's not here."

He narrowed his eyes. "Sorry," he shrugged, "I thought she left." He turned around, finally looking at the blonde. "It is good to have you back, I just..."

"I know," Alex said, nodding at him. "It's weird for me, too. But...if it helps, I did just save your boss's ass on my first day back." She looked at Olivia. "Thank me by treating me less like a victim?"

Elliot blinked, realizing that's what he'd unconsciously been doing. "Yeah," he said softly. "How, um...how did you..."

"Ask Cragen," Alex said, interrupting him. "I will...I will see you...later, I guess. Oh, um, I hope you get this guy. I heard he's a slippery one."

Olivia let out a single laugh. "Yeah, thanks." She offered an unsure smile as Alex left the room, and then turned back to Elliot. "Second question?"

Elliot grinned and leaned toward her. "This afternoon, when you got out of the car...I've never seen that look in your eyes, and, baby, I've seen you make some pretty incredible faces." He softened and leaned just a bit closer. "What was that?"

"We have been so wrapped up in this case," she said, unable to help her smile from growing. "I don't think either of us realized...I'm late."

"For what?" he asked, blinking dumbly, trying not to get his hopes up but the stupid grin on his face betrayed his emotions and gave away his unspoken optimism.

She got out of her seat, walked around to his side of the desks, and leaned against the edge, right beside him.

His eyes followed hers the whole while, and he felt his blood rushing through his veins, every sense on high alert, as she reached for his hand. "Are you...you're not telling me you...that we...are we?"

Olivia bit her lip and squeezed his hand. "There's a damn good chance."

"Chance for what?" Tucker said, emerging from the back of the room.

Olivia immediately dropped his hand and cleared her throat. "A chance that...we might...know where our perp is, after all."

"Oh, great," Cragen said, trying to slip into his office. "Go pick him up." He closed the door behind him, leaving Tucker, Olivia, and Elliot in the squad room, confused.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	14. Chapter 14

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Apartment of Olivia Benson, 203 W. 89th Street, 4D, Manhattan, New York

Her hands were still shaking, her entire body trembling as she looked at the white plastic thing resting on the bathroom sink. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, this..." she blinked and picked up the stick in one hand, the box it came in in the other, and looked back and forth between the two. Her eyes narrowed, widened, narrowed again, and then widened again as both hands lost their grip. "El," she called, her voice wavering, "Would you...come here please?"

Elliot poked his head through the bathroom door, his cell phone held to his ear. "Hey" he said, taking another step toward her. "I'm getting an address from Fin, we gotta go, they think they found..."

"I'm pregnant," she said, interrupting him, but not fully aware that he'd been speaking at all, anyway.

Silence filled the room, except the plopping splash telling them Elliot had just dropped his phone into the toilet. He blinked quickly, staring blankly at her. "What?"

She took a breath and held a hand over her rapidly beating heart. "I'm pregnant," she repeated, her eyes sparkling and the corners of her lips tugging upward.

"Are you...are you sure?" he asked, his eyes popping. He moved fast, taking her into his arms. "Like, sure, sure?"

She nodded and looked down at the fallen test and its box. "Positive," she said, answering him and reminding herself what the test results were. "El, I'm pregnant." That time, it was said with a waver in her voice and tears in her eyes.

He let out a hard, happy, exhalation and pulled her into his arms, lifting her off of her feet and spinning her around. He kissed her with everything he had as joyful tears rolled down his cheeks. He sniffled as he deepened the kiss and held her even tighter, trying to prove to her through his actions that it was the happiest moment of his life. He pulled away from her, beaming, and he rubbed her nose with his. "We made a baby," he whispered, one of his large hands coming to rest on her belly, as if trying to feel the tiny life growing inside of her.

All she could do was nod, her head and sniffle as her own smile stopped tears from rolling down her chin. Her hands clutched his face and her thumbs swept under his eyes, wiping hot droplets away.

"Baby," he breathed, barely audible, right against her lips. He took a deep breath, kissed her again, and then backed away fast, struck with a realization. He looked down, into the toilet bowl. "Fuck," he hissed, but the drowning phone didn't bother him. In fact, he felt as though, now, nothing could bother him at all.

Squad Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

"We got there, and the place was empty," Olivia said, explaining to Fin, Munch, and Captain Cragen. She glanced over at Elliot, who was frustratingly trying to figure out how to turn on his new phone. She pulled it our of his hands and pushed a button on the side as she said, "We did find, um, the rest of Cassidy's mother." She cringed and handed Elliot back his phone. "Melinda's going to do what she can, and let us know if she finds anything."

"Did you get anything you can use to find this guy?" Cragen asked, sounding annoyed. "Last night, you told me you knew where he was!"

"We said there was a chance," Elliot spat back, his eyes wide. He scrolled through his contacts to make sure they were all there, and then sent a text to someone before looking back up at Cragen. "Turns out we were misinformed. We have the full cooperation of everyone at Violux, now, and he's getting sloppy. He'll slip up, and we'll find him."

Olivia couldn't help smiling warmly at him, though nothing he'd been saying merited positive reinforcement. He'd just lied to Cragen, again. She had, too, though, now that she thought of it. Her eyes glazed over the longer she stared at him, and visions of him changing diapers and warming bottles swam through her head. She chuckled, picturing Elliot with smeared mushy peas and applesauce all over his face and hands, and it made her life, somehow, seem full. A voice hit her ears, dissolving the mental motion-picture, and she shook her head. "What?"

"I said," Fin intoned, rolling his eyes, "That Novak called for you. I took a message, it didn't sound good, but she did say that she dropped a few of those bullshit complaints she handed you the other day." His head turned toward Elliot. "She wants one of you to call her back whenever you can."

Elliot shot Olivia a look. "Not it," he said quickly, tapping his finger on the end of his nose.

"Oh, my God, you are a child," she chuckled. "I'll call her, Jeez!" She moved a few inches over and reached across his desk to grab the phone, and as she dialed, she mumbled to him, "Don't want you talking to her, anyway."

Elliot smirked. "Your bitch is showing," he teased. "You're glowing already, by the way. You just...are." His eyes twinkled as he watched her move, sitting upright with the phone against her ear, and he furrowed his brow while attempting to picture her with a large belly, swollen with his child.

"Stabler," Fin said, raising an eyebrow. "You look like you're going to throw up, you all right, over there?"

"I'm fucking perfect," he replied, nodding, grinning like a baboon. He turned, half-listening to Olivia's phone call. "I'm waiting on a...oh, here we go," he said, looking down as his phone buzzed in his hand. He swiped the blinking bar and read the text he'd just received. He got to his feet and said, "We got him. He went to pick up a supply of cord-blood from Lenox Hill, they're stalling him with paperwork until we get there, but it has to be now." Knowing she heard him, he slapped Olivia in the arm.

"Yeah, okay, Casey," she said, trying to stop the ADA from talking. "No, he's seeing someone. Pretty damn serious, they're having a baby, so...oh, you are just...you know, I have to go catch a psychopath, I'll deal with you later." She slammed the phone down on the cradle, looked around at the stunned faces, and said, "She...she is a very lonely woman." She shrugged, grabbed her jacket, and followed Elliot out of the squad room.

Elliot led her down the stairs, knowing time was of absolute vitality. They sped up, keeping with each other, and when they reached the lobby's landing, he pulled the door open and held it for her.

"Such a gentleman," she chuckled.

"Nah," he said with a twist of his lips. "I'd make anyone else get it their damn self." He laughed, and then, as they headed for the glass front doors, he asked, "What did Novak say to you? You looked pretty apoplectic there, for a minute."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Don't get me started on her. She actually said...she said you had no problem leaving Kathy, and you had four kids with her." She shoved her hands in her pockets as the cool city air hit her. They walked a little closer to each other, their arms brushing together as they headed for the car in the lot. "She wants me to convince you to take her to dinner."

"No, thanks," he said with a disgusted grimace. "Speaking of food, you need to eat." He deactivated the alarm on the car, opening it, and got into the driver's seat. Immediately, he opened the glove compartment and grabbed a wrapped protein bar, handing it to Olivia. He stifled a laugh, seeing the incredulous expression on her face that seemed to tell him to fuck off. "Please?" he begged, tearing it open. "For me. And the baby."

That did it. The mention of her child weakened her resolve and she took the bar from him. She brought it to her lips, which were curled into a reluctant pout. "This smells like your gym locker and peanut butter."

"Yum," he gagged, shifting the car into reverse and pulling out of the parking lot. "Just eat it."

Taking a bite, she made a sound like a sick bullfrog. "Oh, my God, Elliot, you eat these on a daily basis? What is wrong with you?"

He laughed. "I eat them before I go to the gym, baby," he said, laughing lightly. "They're good for you."

"They taste healthy," she said with a mouthful. "Like pure fiber and ground nuts," she swallowed and sighed. "This is gonna hurt, isn't it?" she asked tonelessly.

"Having a baby?" he asked, changing lanes and hitting the gas. "It's not gonna tickle, honey, but we can get an..."

"Catching this asshole," she cut in, stopping and correcting him. "Talking to him, hearing him recount everything he did, what he did to those women, their...their babies..." her barless hand moved fast, over her stomach, and her entire body quaked with fear, hatred, and aching desire to protect the sesame-seed-sized life within. "It's all just...it's gonna fucking suck."

He nodded. "We didn't plan this, baby," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry we have to deal with a case like this, right now, but I'm right here, okay? Whatever you need, whenever you need it."

"I know, El," she said, her features softening as she heaved a long, heavy sigh. She saw the sign for Lenox Hill Hospital on the right side of the road and her smile faded. She was about to come face-to-face with a monster.

She just didn't plan on that face being so familiar.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	15. Chapter 15

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Office of Sergeant Ed Tucker, Internal Affairs, One Police Plaza, Manhattan, New York

"One day," Ed Tucker said, rubbing his temples with an irritated grimace on his face. "Just one day, without one of you pissing all over the fucking regulations of this department, that's all I fucking want out of life."

Elliot chuckled. "We didn't break any rules yesterday," he said, shrugging. "You know it was self-defense, Ed. You can't tie us up for this. Besides, he's alive, isn't he?"

"Barely!" Tucker scoffed, dropping his hands to his desk and looking up at Elliot. "Explain, one more time, before I fucking flip my fucking shit."

Elliot took a breath. "We got to the hospital, Olivia..." he paused, seeing the near-violent look in Tucker's eyes. "Detective Benson walked toward the triage desk, identified herself as a police officer, and we were pointed down the hall to a conference room." He took another breath, the sting of the memory still fresh on his skin. "When we walked into the room, we both held up our badges, but when the son-of-a-bitch turned around..."

"Watch it," Tucker warned, pointing a finger at him, narrowing his eyes.

Elliot licked his lips and then said, "She recognized him right away. He must have known who she was, too, because he reached into his pocket for something, and I thought it was a gun." He cleared his throat. "I was faster, I shot him in the leg, he was down and Detective Benson ran over to him, cuffed him, pulled him to his feet." He ran a hand down his face. "I radioed it in, but we didn't need to call a bus, we were in a hospital. She read him his rights, we walked him down to the ER, he told us everything before the admitted him. It's an admissible confession."

Tucker squeezed the bridge of his nose, lowered his voice, and spoke in a serious tone. "Did he have a gun?"

"Yes," Elliot affirmed.

"Was it loaded," Tucker asked, his fingers still squeezing the center of his nose tightly.

"No," Elliot said, squinting, "But, how was I supposed to know that?"

Ed sighed. "You weren't," he said, standing and walking around his desk toward Elliot. "You did what you were supposed to do, but I need to know, when Olivia was chasing him the first time, how she didn't realize who it was, then."

"She was drugged!" Elliot barked. "God, do you know how many times I beat myself up over that? Because I wasn't there? Because if the ambulance had gotten there any later she probably would have lost the baby? Jesus, she was unconscious, could have died, and you're pissed because she didn't recognize him?"

Ed had stopped listening. His face had gone white, though it wasn't sure it was out of fear or anger. He swallowed the sharp-edged lump that had formed in his throat. "What? What baby?"

Lenox Hill Hospital, Ward D, Recovery Room 17, Manhattan, New York

"No, that's...that's everything we needed," Olivia said, nodding at a uniformed officer. She ran a hand through her hair and exhaled long and slowly. She blinked a bit as she walked out of the room, coming to meet Fin in the hallway. "At least Cassidy can finally lay his mother to rest." She shoved her hands in her pockets.

"Elliot's still with Tucker," he told her. "You okay?"

Olivia shrugged. "Are we ever okay after something like this?" She pulled her lip between her teeth, bit it for a moment, and then shook her head. "This could have been avoided. It all could have...I didn't know he had kids." She looked at Fin. "We didn't know he'd been released, and we didn't know he had..."

"It was a different identity, Liv," Fin consoled. "A different life, and a different face. I'm surprised you even recognized him at all, so you can't knock yourself down for..."

"We should have known," she interrupted, one hand moving out of her pocket to smooth over her not-quite-there belly. "And these parents...God, we have to go talk to these people, these...animals, who willingly gave up their children to some money-hunger psycho with a need to play God."

Fin shook his head. "Liv, don't do this to yourself. You and Elliot are gonna get every one of them on a couple counts of murder and fraud, and the world will be a better place for whoever that little guy is gonna grow up to be," he told her, pointing to her stomach.

She looked at him, then, her eyes wide. "How did you..."

"I'm a detective," he said with a chuckle, interrupting. "Come on, let's go get your baby-daddy from One-P-P and nail the rest of these bastards to the wall." He walked with her for a moment, but then said, "Oh, and Liv?"

"Yeah?" she replied, nibbling on her lip again.

Fin smiled. "Your secret's safe with me."

Office of Sergeant Ed Tucker, Internal Affairs, One Police Plaza, Manhattan, New York

"You look like you're going to be sick, Ed," Elliot said, tilting his head.

Ed Tucker nodded, moving back toward his desk. He plopped into the cushioned leather chair and wavered slightly, before righting himself and looking at Elliot. "How far along is she?"

"Barely six weeks," Elliot said, smiling at the thought of his new little legacy. "We, uh, we obviously didn't plan it. We aren't...I mean, we are, but not...the legalities of our relationship haven't exactly been solidified. We were worried about what Cragen would say. What you would do."

"Is she okay?" Ed asked, his eyes flashing with an almost protective glare. "The shit that mother-fucker threw at her, did it do any damage?"

Elliot squinted as he sat down on a chair across from Tucker. "No, everything's fine. We have a doctor's appointment on Wednesday, but Frank Warner told us everything's perfect, so far." He blinked. "Why do you look so concerned?"

"I am concerned," Ed said, scratching the nape of his neck. "I told you, I don't hate you. I don't want to name my children after you, but I don't fucking hate you. Anything happens to you, or your family, while it's on my watch, and I...well, I wouldn't fucking let it happen, Stabler. You fuck up, you're out on your ass, but anyone fucks with you, and I'm the first in line to hurt the son-of-a-bitch." He closed his eyes and breathed, and then a small smile grew on his face. "You're a fucking fertile asshole, Elliot."

"Guess I am," Elliot said, chuckling. "And Liv, she...she wants kids. So, God willing, this won't be the first time she's..."

"Elliot," Ed interrupted, biting his lip. He took another breath and blinked a few times, rapidly, before opening the bottom drawer of his desk. "Does Cragen know?"

Elliot shook his head. "Not yet," he said, crossing his arms. "I wasn't even planning on telling you, but now that you know, and you're not doing shit to me and Liv about it, I guess I could tell him."

"Before you do," Tucker said, handing Elliot a thick tie-closure envelope, "You two need to read this."

Raising an eyebrow, Elliot asked an unspoken question. He took the envelope and started to unspool the thread that sealed it.

"When we spoke with Alex, it was about those missing entries in your jackets. This...this is...them. And a letter, explaining why they were taken, what was redacted, and...well, it may make you think twice before trusting some people. He's, uh, he's been lying to you for a while, Elliot. To, um, to all of us."

"Who?" Elliot asked, confused, as he took the thick stack of papers out of the envelope.

Ed waited, watched Elliot read the first page of the stack, the letter, and watched his eyes widen. With a soft, almost sad voice, he said, "Cragen."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	16. Chapter 16

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Apartment of Olivia Benson, 203 W. 89th Street, 4D, Manhattan, New York

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her, kissing her neck as his hands ran over her stomach. He kissed the small spot behind her ear and mumbled something else softly.

She nestled herself snugly against his chest, her body between his legs, her socked feet rubbing against his bare ones. "You didn't know," she said, her fingers linking with his on the sides of her tiny growing bump.

"That's why I'm sorry. How could we have missed this?" he asked, shifting his weight to make them both more comfortable on the couch. "The reason he didn't fight harder when you got roped into shit with the Feds. The reason Porter just always knew...the reason Cragen jumped in our way when we had that bastard by the balls on a murder charge."

She craned her neck back and looked at him. "Yeah, okay, we should've known, but it's all over and done with and Tucker said that he was handling it, so can you just..."

His lips stopped hers from moving, his tongue worked its way into her mouth, his moan mixed with her cry and his hands tightened around hers. He felt her move, her body turning and twisting, causing incredible friction against his. He pulled his hands away from hers and wrapped them around her waist as she looped her legs around his body. "I love you," he whispered against her lips.

"I love you, too," she breathed, skimming her hands up his shirt. She wasn't sure how it started, but she was determined to finish it.

Outside of the Apartment of Brian Cassidy, Brooklyn, New York

Munch looked up from the blood stains on the carpet and rubbed his forehead. "Should we call Benson and..."

"No, no, they've been through enough today," Tucker said, shoving his notebook in his pocket. "You and Tutuola can handle this." He looked over his shoulder. "Besides, uh, he had a thing with Benson, didn't he? It'd be personal."

"It wasn't personal when they were investigating his mother's death," Munch said, furrowing his already crinkled brows even more. "He might need a friend or two, right now, why don't you just..."

"Do not call them!" Tucker yelled. He cleared his throat and shook his shoulders lightly. "Cassidy is still a cop, so I have to run this, and..." He thought for a moment, finding a plausible explanation for why he refused to bring in Olivia and Elliot. "I'd rather not have to deal with them flying off the fucking radar every five minutes."

Munch raised one eyebrow and nodded. "Right," he said. He stuck his hands in his pockets and asked, "So he's really a suspect?"

"The man that killed and butchered his mother was found dead in his cell an hour ago," Tucker said. "And Cassidy had access to the holding cell. So yeah, Detective Munch, he is a suspect."

Apartment of Olivia Benson, 203 W. 89th Street, 4D, Manhattan, New York

"Connor," Elliot mumbled, his eyes closed, as his fingertips danced along Olivia's bare, hot skin.

"Hmm?" she groaned, cuddling closer to him. She pulled the blanket tighter around them, moved a but to her left, and moaned at the feeling of him still inside of her. She chuckled a bit as she found a comfortable spot against him on the couch. "Who?"

"Names," he answered, his tired lips forming a half-hearted pucker as he kissed her chin. "I like Connor."

"Like from The Terminator movies?" she asked, somewhere between teasing and serious questioning. "Such a guy."

With a laugh he said, "Oh, you want me to pick a typical guy kinda name? What about Luke Skywalker Stabler?" He wrapped his arms around her and said, "No, no, George Lucas Stabler. Steven Spielberg Stabler."

"Okay, okay," she laughed, running her lips over his. "Connor is actually a nice name. But what if it's a girl?"

He tilted his head. "What about Serena Bernadette?" The look in his eyes betrayed how honest the suggestion had been, but the look on her face told him it was not the best idea he'd ever had. "I mean, you know, because they both..."

"Nice thought, baby," she stopped him and gave him a small kiss. "I don't think I...I loved her, you know I loved her, but no."

"Yeah, didn't think so," he sighed, pressing his lips to hers again. "What about Emily or Charlotte?"

"Because I enjoy reading, you picked the Bronte sisters?" she laughed. "What about Chloe, or Grace. Or Amelia? We could name her Rachael."

He squinted. "Those are all..."

"Irish Catholic," she said, nodding once. "I know. And, uh, we kind of have a personal connection to Rachael." She winked and kissed him.

"By your logic, though, we could name her after you. Olivia is the forty-second most common name given to Irish girls," he told her. He saw the odd look on her face and laughed. "Oh, you're the only one who can use Google?"

She shook her head as she laughed and kissed him again. With a long sigh, she settled her head against his chest and said something that would make it hard for him to go back to sleep. "We need to think about when and how we're going to tell the kids." She sighed again. "And Kathy."

Office of Captain D. Cragen, Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan

"Are you crazy?" Cragen hissed into the phone. "I'm beginning to think you are actually insane." He rubbed his forehead and sighed. "No. I can't do that. Not...not now. Tucker figured it out, and if I sent her with you again...no, I didn't tell him! We're up for review and...things got...complicated."

He listened to the man on the other end of the line speak as he rose from his seat and walked around to the front of his desk. Leaning against it, he said, "I'm telling you, you need to let this go. Put her behind you, use someone else. Someone...no, I'm not. I can't be a part of this anymore. I won't be."

He rolled his eyes as he heard the man speak again and he folded one hand over the curve of his oak desk. "Because I want to keep my job, and I need to put the unit first. I don't care what kind of commendation or glory this department would get, not anymore. You don't get it, I can't send her out to..."

He huffed and rolled his eyes again. "No, not because of Stabler! Because she...Jesus, she's pregnant!" He heard the line go silent, but not dead. He heard slow, heavy breathing. "Yeah," he said, closing his eyes. "That's how I reacted. But, listen, you can't say anything to anyone, not a single word, do you under...because I'm not exactly supposed to know, that's why!" His eyes widened as he listened, and then his body withered and slumped. With a sigh, he asked, dejected, "What do you need me to do?"

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	17. Chapter 17

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Squad Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York ** _  
_**

"No one thought we needed to know?" Olivia fumed, her eyes crossed, glaring at Fin first, and then Munch. "Really?"

Munch held up both of his hands defensively. "I wanted to call you in," he said. "Tucker said he didn't want to deal with you two."

"That mouth-breathing ass..."

"Liv," Elliot interrupted, "Cur him some slack, huh?" He caught her eyes as they snapped toward him, and his own narrowed, conveying the deeper meaning of his words. "We had a night off, one we really needed, I'd take it for what it was, if I were you."

Her eyes flickered as one eyebrow rose and she nodded at him, licking her lips. She cleared her throat and looked back toward Munch and Fin. "Where is he? Does he have a lawyer?"

"In the tombs," Fin replied, shifting in his seat. "And yeah, Langan's taking it, but, uh, he swears he didn't do it. We're still checking out his alibi."

"What's his alibi?" Elliot asked, taking a step closer to Olivia.

Fin looked up at him. "He said he was with a, uh, lady friend. Business. At a place called Chez Lu...loopy-loo, or something."

"Chez Le Pierre," Olivia said, hiding a laugh. "That's...that's not a place you take someone for a business dinner."

Elliot said, almost under his breath, "Just if you want to, uh, get down to business, right?" He chuckled, watching Olivia's eyes crinkle as she laughed with him. He sighed, then, promising himself that he would always make her that happy, that the glimmer in her eyes at that moment would be a permanent one. He moved his hand, was about to sweep a few errant strands of hair out of her eyes, but he remembered where he was and changed direction quickly. "So who are the other suspects?"

"We don't have any," Munch said dryly.

"Oh, come on," Elliot said, tilting his head. "The man raped, killed, and dismembered at least a dozen women and is responsible for the deaths of a hundred..."

"Yeah, and the families of all of those victims had no way in or out of gen-pop at Rikers," Fin interrupted. "The only one who had access to..."

"Hold it," Elliot said, flipping through a file, "One of the babies' father's...is a corrections officer."

Munch ripped the file out of his hand. "What?" He scanned the page quickly. "Yeah, but he lives in Florida. There's no way to..."

"Read the bottom," Elliot said, cutting him off and tapping a finger on the file-folder.

Munch read, and then his eyes widened. "How did we miss this?" he asked, turning to Fin and handing him the folder.

Fin took it from him, read it, and then looked up, his eyes meeting each of the three faces staring back at him. "He moved to New York three months ago," he said, "When he found out the girl was pregnant. By the time he got here..."

"Yeah," Elliot said, nodding. "He had a damn good reason to be pissed off, didn't he?"

Office of Sgt. Ed Tucker, Internal Affairs Bureau, One Police Plaza, Manhattan, New York

"I don't care if the Queen of fucking England asks you for a favor, you refuse, and then you come to me!" Tucker yelled, pointing a thick finger at Cragen. "I don't give a shit what he wanted, you're no longer in a position to make those decisions without me, especially when it involves a federal case!"

Cragen sat up a bit straighter in his chair and rolled his neck, easing some tension. "I just asked what he wanted, I didn't tell him I would do anything for him," he said, and then he stiffened. "And I did come to you, didn't I?" He blinked. "I need to keep the Chief of D's out of this as long as I can. I know my job is on the line, and I know I put Benson and Stabler in a compromising position."

Tucker let out a soft scoffing snort. "They did that to themselves, too," he said, almost bitterly. "I'm not blabbing to the chief about anything, so keep your fucking pants on." He ran a hand over his head, brushing what little hair he had backward. "Okay, Stabler's the federal liaison in your unit, Benson's his partner, they're fucking US goddamn Marshalls, right? We can't change that, but any informal ties you had to the FBfuckingI are cut, do you understand me?" He narrowed his eyes. "Whatever money or glory or whatever-the-fuck Porter gave you in return for making sure he'd be working with Olivia..."

"I never took money from him," Cragen interrupted, irritated. "Don't make me sound like the scum we put away, huh? He gave the unit commendations, made us look good when we needed to the most, and how could it hurt to have a few friends higher up on the food chain?"

"Stop using Benson as bait," Tucker said, his tone warning and severe. "And stop baiting Stabler with Porter. You know what could happen if he snaps, and we don't need that kind of fucking headache?"

Cragen rolled his eyes. "So what do I do? I can't green light any federal..."

"Porter, or whoever needs the help, has to call Stabler directly, or me, or the chief," Tucker declared, handing a crisply folded letter to Cragen. "You have to approve the leave, but you don't find out about it until Stabler does. No more forcing their hand on things, and God damn it, Porter's a fucking murdering, self-serving asshole, so I don't want anyone under my command dealing with him. If the bureau needs our help, we work with someone else from now on. He almost got Benson killed the last time he..."

"You've been acting like a worried parent for the last three weeks," Cragen said, holding up a hand and stopping Tucker's rant. "I thought you would be the first to throw Stabler into the line of fire."

Tucker took a deep breath, bit the inside corner of his cheek, and said, "It's my job to keep their asses in line, and to tear them a new one when they fuck up." He sighed again. "It's also NYPD policy to be a little easier on someone who...in a condition like...because Benson is..."

"Pregnant," Cragen said, bitterness filtering out with the word. "How do you know?"

Tucker narrowed his eyes. "Better question," he said, "How the fuck do you?"

Front Seats, Maroon Sedan, Parking lot of Rikers Island Correctional Facility, New York

"Breathe," he whispered, his hand rubbing slowly up and down her back as she curled over. "Honey, breathe."

She nodded, swallowed back hard, and righted herself. She turned her head and looked at him. "I'm okay," she said. "Feeling's gone, I'm okay."

"You know, as much shit that's in this car right now, I don't think anyone would've noticed if you did throw up," he said jokingly, still rubbing her back. "You sure you're not going to?"

She nodded again. "Not in the car," she added with a shrug. "I'm all right now. It was just this wave of nausea, the smell of the river or something and my whole stomach flipped."

"Yeah, that's probably the baby," he said with a laugh. "You ready?" he asked, jutting his chin toward the foreboding brick building.

"Yup," she said, getting out of the car. She took a deep, steadying breath as she shut the passenger side door behind her and took a few steps toward the metal gate. She pulled her badge off of her hip, preparing to hold it up to the guard. She stopped, turned to her left, and folded her arms. "What?"

He grinned, loving how she knew, how she just always knew when he was staring at her. "I can see it, now," he said with a shrug. "I can tell the difference, the way you're walking with a slightly heavier step, leading with your hips instead of your chest, and there's just the slightest roundness in your..."

"You pay too much fucking attention to me," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "Stop staring at my 'roundness' and focus on this case."

He licked his lips, imagining doing more than staring at her, and he fell back in step with her, holding up his own badge to the guard. "Excuse me," he said, eyeing the uniformed man. "Detective Stabler, this is my partner, Detective Benson. Manhattan Special Victims."

"You here for the attack in Ward Five?" the guard asked, pulling a clipboard off the hook on the wall of the small station. He looked at Elliot's badge and wrote down the number, and then did the same with Olivia's.

"Uh, no," Elliot said, giving Olivia a sidelong glance. "What attack?"

The guard flipped to a page on his clipboard and held it out to Elliot, pointing with a pen to the lines on the visitor's log he needed to sign. "CO was assaulted during his rounds, inmate found him in the showers, it wasn't pretty."

Olivia let out a hum, reaching over Elliot's chest to sign the log, and said, "We'll check it out while we're here, but first, can you tell us if Daniel Stanton is in today?"

The guard stared blankly at her as he said, "I can guarantee it. He's in the hospital wing."

Elliot's eyes narrowed. "You have COs patrolling the hospital now?"

The guard took the clipboard back and hung it back up before pressing the button to open the gate. "No. He's the CO that was attacked."

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	18. Chapter 18

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Emergency Medical Infirmary of Rikers Island Correctional Facility, New York

"Can you tell us anything else?" Elliot asked, clicking his pen. He'd been writing what information he'd been given into a small flip-top notebook.

Daniel Stanton shook his head. "No, I...I didn't see his face, and I...I'm sorry."

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek, hating the thoughts that swirled in her head. "I'll be right back," she said. Still feeling a bit queasy, she wobbled as she moved toward the glass door. Her hands pressed against the glass, leaving prints as she moved faster down the hall. Her hands shook as she fumbled to get her phone out of her pocket, but before she could dial, larger hands covered hers.

"What are you doing?" his low voice asked, worry and a hint of arrogance in his words.

She looked up at him. "He did this," she almost whispered. "I don't know how, or...or why, really...but what Stanton described...the voice, the tattoo he described..."

"I know," he interrupted her, looping an arm around her. "I know, okay? But you need to focus. We don't get to choose who our perp is anymore than our vic, you know that." He let his hand fall away from her and cleared his throat. "We just need to do our jobs."

She nodded, fighting back both the urge to cry and the urge to throw up. "Yeah," she said, backing away from him slowly. She wiped a hand down her face and through her hair. "We do." She turned her eyes away from him and said, "I'll go check the visitor's log. If we had to sign it, then..."

"So did he," he finished for her. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and said, "I'll meet you out front. I have a few more questions for Stanton."

She made a humming noise and walked away from him, heading down the hallway with her hands in her pockets, needing to put some space between herself and Elliot before she lost all sense of professionalism, and broke in his arms.

North Tower of "The Tombs", Manhattan Detention Complex, New York

"All right, Liv," Fin said into his phone, eyeing Munch as he spoke. "Thanks." He hung up and shoved his phone in his jacket pocket, licked his lips, and turned from Munch to Brian Cassidy, who was leaning against the bars of a cell to his left. "Your alibi checks, but now we got a bigger problem."

"Yeah, what's that?" Brian asked coolly.

Fin narrowed his eyes and took a step closer. "Someone attacked the CO who killed Jergens, and he wants you to go down for it. Someone used your name and badge to get into Rikers this morning. You were here, so obviously it wasn't you. You want to tell me who has your badge?"

Cassidy blinked once, taking a sharp breath. "If I have to go down for it, then I have to. Do what you're gonna do to me."

"Man," Fin said, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. "It doesn't have to be like that. No one is worth..." his eyes widened a bit and his head fell to the right. "You think your pops did this?"

Cassidy was silent for a beat. "He could have taken an old badge from the house. He wanted justice for my mother, and the chance was ripped away from him! He had every reason to..."

"No, man," Fin interrupted. "Olivia and Elliot...they know who did it. They got enough details from the vic, but we need you to tell us...or it's gonna fall on you." He folded his arms, shot a curious glance at Munch, and then looked back at Cassidy. "How would anyone in the FBI have been given your badge?"

Cassidy choked as the words left Fin's mouth. "Um, what, uh, excuse me?"

Munch stepped over to him, then, and peered at him sternly over the rims of his glasses. "We have reason to believe that an FBI agent used your badge to get into Rikers." He huffed. "You can tell us who, or we can dig so far into the pile of shit you landed yourself in with your job that you'll be under IAB's thumb for..."

"I already am," Brian interrupted, his eyes closing. "Shit, I didn't think...I should have known." He took a deep breath and looked up at Munch. "Well, you all know by now, I'm a joke in the NYPD. I screwed up a case, big time. Got relegated to a night shift in the Bronx. Couldn't even call myself a real cop anymore."

Munch sighed. "Yeah, we know." He shot Fin a look that said there must be more to the story than they'd been told. "Go on."

Cassidy rubbed his eyes and his nose, and then he said, "Before my mother died, I was undercover, for a while. Tucker made me work with the FBI, some bullshit about getting dirt on crooked cops in the NYPD. What I had to do, it's not something I'm proud of, but I did it because Tucker promised me that if I saw it through, I'd get my shield back. You gotta believe me, I never wanted to be anything other than a cop, a good one, and I am a good fucking cop. I made some mistakes, but..."

"So you're saying Tucker had your old shield?" Munch interrupted, his eyes teeming with inquisition.

Cassidy chuckled bitterly. "No, John," he said, shaking his head. "I'm telling you Dean Porter did."

Front Seats, Maroon Sedan, Parking lot of Snicker's Subs and Soda Shoppe, Upper West Side, Manhattan, New York

"You feeling better?" he mumbled, his mouth filled with thick milkshake.

Sipping her own thick treat, she nodded. "Much," she said with a grin. "You always know exactly what I need, don't you?"

"Yup." He nodded and dug his spoon into the ice cream again. He scooped it into his mouth and said, "And when I can't give it to you, I just get you ice cream."

She slapped him in the shoulder playfully, laughing as she swallowed. "Not what I meant," she said, licking her lips.

He, laughing, wagged a finger at her. "You need it, you know it," he looked at her for a moment, his eyes darkening and narrowing. "So do I. It's been a long...a really long day."

"And no end in sight," she said, swirling her straw around the empty cup with a glum sigh. "Drive," she mumbled. "I want to get this over with."

Elliot tossed his empty cup and chewed up spoon into a paper bag near Olivia's feet, and then he sighed and started the car. He backed out of the parking space and said, "Maybe this is our chance to get him. Make him finally answer to someone...take responsibility for..."

"He's untouchable," Olivia interrupted. "We have to learn to deal with that. I want to know why he tried to frame Brian, and why he picked now to get involved with this case."

As he pulled out onto the expressway, he asked her, "You think it has something to do with Cragen?"

"Maybe," she said, dropping her hand to her palm and leaning her elbow against the door. "This whole damn situation is making me sick."

"Honey, I think it's more the baby than it is..." he stopped, feeling her eyes burning into the skin of his cheek. He smirked a bit and said, "Okay. The situation is making you sick. But being pregnant is contributing to that, you have to admit it."

She blinked. "I don't think I've fully processed that, yet," she said, and a slow and easy smile began to spread along her lips. "I'm pregnant."

"You are," he told her. "With my kid. That's a half-Benson-half-Stabler-bundle-of-joy-and-chaos," he said with a laugh, pointing to her stomach. "Now, a year ago, if someone would have told me this was going to happen, I would have had them analyzed by Doctor Huang, so if we made it here, baby, then anything is possible." He reached for her hand, grabbed her fingers, and brought them to his lips. He kissed each knuckle gently, keeping his eyes on the road, and he held her hand tighter as he wrapped his palm around the gear shift. "So, uh, you want to tempt fate a bit more?"

She blinked, feeling the heat from his palm seep into every cell of her own hand. "What are you getting at?"

He grinned as he turned the wheel with one hand. "Marry me."

Office of Sgt. Ed Tucker, Internal Affairs Bureau, One Police Plaza, Manhattan, New York

"I've got two of the best detectives in the entire NYPD on their way down here, right now, with rock-solid evidence that you attacked Daniel Stanton." Tucker scratched at his left cheek, feeling hives popping up on his skin. "I can't help you, not unless you..."

"It wasn't me," Agent Dean Porter said, sitting with one foot propped on the other knee. "I swear. I own my actions, I always have. I didn't do this."

Tucker took a shaky breath, but his gut told him Porter was telling the truth. "You need to cooperate here, you know that, don't you? You're not just going to walk out of here if you know anything."

"I don't know anything," Porter said. "I just know I had no part in any of this, and I can prove it if you need me to." He leaned back against the leather seat, putting his hands behind his head. "But I'll stick around for a bit. I heard Benson got herself knocked-up, I'd like to extend my congratulations. And my sympathies."

"Sympathy?" Tucker asked, his brows knitted. "For what?"

"She always assumed she'd be a single mother," Porter said with a shrug. "I had her convinced, once upon a time, that she'd find the right person and have a real family. I was wrong, and I'm sorry she has to..."

Tucker held up a hand. "You sure you're an FBI agent?" He shook his head, flummoxed, and his eyes narrowed even more. "Because you're one fucking thick-headed son-of-a-bitch."

Porter tilted his head. "Wait, she...she went through with using a donor?" He jerked his head back and turned down his lips. "Damn, I thought she'd wanted more of a..."

"Are you fucking out of your mind?" Tucker asked, stopping him again. "Listen to yourself! You're obviously not talking about Detective Benson." He scratched at the angry, red splotches on his cheek again. "Not that it's any of your business, but she's in a...um...relationship, with the father! I would really fucking appreciate it if you didn't act like a fucking douchebag when she gets here!" He scraped his short nails along his jawline. "I hate her attitude on a daily basis, so I really don't want to witness what she's like pissed off and pregnant. Besides, you're not even supposed to know she's having a fucking baby!" His fingers crooked fiercely over the spreading rash.

Porter pointed at Tucker's face and cleared his throat. "You might want to put some ointment or...cream...or...that's...that's not looking so good."

Tucker stopped pacing and shot him a severe look. "I'm allergic to bullshit."

Porter snorted, rolled his eyes, and leaned further back in his chair.

A knock on Tucker's door broke the tense silence in the office. "Come in," Tucker snapped, folding his arms. He and Porter eyed the door as the knob turned. Porter's eyes widened, Tucker's narrowed, and both men held their breath.

Porter was the first to crack a smile. "Look at you, Benson. You're practically glowing. Motherhood looks good on you."

Olivia's face fell and her eyes grew annoyed as she crossed her arms and gave Tucker a pissed off glare.

"Oh, please," Tucker snapped back. "I didn't tell him."

Elliot eyed him suspiciously and put his hands on her shoulders. "You're the only person I told, Ed! If you didn't tell him, then who the hell did?"

Tucker sighed and looked at Porter.

Porter grinned cockily and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "Cragen," he said.

Olivia gasped, Elliot growled, and Tucker turned bright red, the rest of his face matching his irritated cheek. They had a bigger problem than they imagined.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	19. Chapter 19

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Squad Room of the Special Victims Unit, Sixteenth Precinct, Manhattan, New York

"Well," Elliot sighed, taking a long sip from a bottle of water before handing it to Olivia, "At least, this time, he isn't the bad guy."

Olivia chugged back a long gulp. "That's subjective," she countered, wiping her lips.

Elliot chuckled, and then sat in the chair at his desk. "He was...unusually nice."

"Because he doesn't want to see what happens when he pisses me off while my hormones are out-of-whack," she said, eyeing Elliot narrowly.

Again, Elliot laughed, and he shook his head at her. "I don't want to see that, either." He winked at her and looked over his shoulder. "How did Cragen find out about the baby, anyway?"

"Maybe Fin told him," she said, sounding irritated.

Elliot's brows furrowed. "How the hell did Fin find out?"

She rolled her eyes and let out a challenged breath, and she said, "He figured it out. I guess the way I was acting, or maybe I had my hand over...look, I didn't tell him, he just knew."

"It's fucking impossible to keep a damn secret in this place," he growled, running a hand down his face.

She smirked at him, though, and said, "We're keeping one." She innocently aimed her eyes at the ceiling and drank her water, tapping the fingers of her other hand on the surface of her desk. Fin and Munch walked into the room just as she had her bottle settled on her desk. "What took so long?"

"More than one suspect," Fin said, raising one eyebrow, "Means more than one test." He slapped the results of the blood tests on Elliot's desk. "Cassidy's been cleared, so has Porter, and the sketch artist is working with the security guard from Rikers as we speak."

"Good," Elliot said, reading through the print-outs Fin had given him. "We may finally close this fucking case." He shot Olivia a smokey and pointed look.

She returned his wicked grin, too, as she took the papers he was offering. She read the test results and shook her head. "Inconclusive? Great. Did Brian tell you about anyone else, other than Dean, who would have a way to get an old badge of his?"

"Well, we know it's not his father, or Porter," Munch said, pushing his wire-rimmed spectacles up higher on his long nose. "Porter could have given it to someone else," he said with a shrug. "All those tests prove is that the man wasn't the one who attacked Stanton. He could still..."

"I assure you," Porter's grimy voice interrupted, "I did not." He walked into the room and headed for Cragen's office. "Is he in there?"

Elliot shook his head as he leaned backward in his chair. "No," he said, "He's in a meeting with Tucker."

Porter looked at him, raised both eyebrows, and plopped into a nearby metal folding chair. He whipped out his cell phone and fired off a text message. He didn't have all day to wait, and he knew whatever Tucker and Cragen were talking about could take a very long time.

Office of Sgt. Ed Tucker, Internal Affairs Bureau, One Police Plaza, Manhattan, New York

"Turn that fucking phone off, or at least stop looking at it every time it beeps," Tucker barked. "This is a serious accusation, one that could cost you your job."

Cragen sighed. "It's Porter," he said. "He's waiting for me at the station, and considering everything that's happened, I don't want him alone with Stabler for more than five minutes."

"That can fucking wait," Tucker hissed again. "Security tapes aren't helping, the guy knew to keep his head turned, and was wearing a hoodie." He spoke through gritted teeth. frustrated. "Porter pointed the finger at me, first, and then you. You had an old badge of his, when he used to..."

"I never left my office!" Cragen yelled, interrupting. "I was either there, or here, for the entire run of this case!" He shook his head. "I may find ways to bend the rules and dodge road blocks for a case, but I would never kill anyone over it!"

Tucker sighed, rubbing his hand across his forehead. "This job is giving me so many fucking wrinkles." He looked up again. "Okay. New question. How did you know Benson's pregnant? Elliot told me, neither of them had any intention of telling you, for obvious reasons."

Cragen flinched in hurt, those words difficult to hear, that his actions had caused two people he considered family to lose trust in him. "Reviewing the case files," he said with a shrug. "I went over everything, including her medical report and chart, when she was hit with that bottle of...shit." He waved a hand in the air, dismissively, as if trying to remember the name of the chemicals or the doctor who threw them at her was pointless. "There was a notation at the bottom, because they had to make sure that no damage was done to the..." he paused and his eyes widened a bit, his lips attempted to curl upward. "She's having a baby."

"Yeah," Tucker growled, plopping into his chair. "Now, can we get back to the entire reason we're..." he stopped, rolling his eyes. "Fine, go ahead," he said, gesturing rudely to Cragen's ringing phone, telling him to answer it.

Cragen eyed him for a second, and then picked up the call. "Yeah," he snapped. "What? Oh, Jesus, okay. Just...wait for me before heading out there, this needs to be handled...now, just wait a minute, Elliot! I will be there in less than five minutes, and I'm bringing Tucker! This needs to be done by the book or you'll be in deep shit, and with Olivia...thank you!" He snapped his phone shut and looked at Tucker. "The guard at Rikers finished with the sketch artist," he said, his eyes relaying the seriousness of the results.

Tucker grabbed his gun out of his top drawer. "Cop?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, having heard Cragen's end of the conversation.

"Worse," Cragen said, rising out of his seat. "Judge."

Chambers of New York County Arraignment Judge Doug Stender. New York City Hall and Courthouse, Manhattan

"Judge Stender," Elliot's cool voice called through the locked doors. "It's Detectives Stabler and Benson, Special Victims."

Olivia shot him a look, one hand on her gun. She whispered, "What if he's running?"

"Nah," Elliot whispered back. "Guy like him? So arrogant, he thinks he'll never be a suspect? He's in there." He raised his voice a bit, looking to his left at Tucker and Cragen, and two uniformed officers, laying in wait. "We need a warrant, Your Honor, it, uh, it won't take much of your time."

The lock on the door clicked, the door opened a bit, and the judge glared at Elliot. "I'm in a meeting, Stabler, there are five other judges, right down this hallway, that could sign your warrant. Why do you..." he paused, seeing Tucker and Cragen step up behind Elliot and Olivia. "What is this? What is going on, here? Have you all got nothing better to..."

"Judge Doug Stender," Olivia said, cutting him off, pulling her cuffs off of her clip. "You're under arrest for impersonating an officer, and the assault of Officer Daniel Stanton. You have the right to..."

"Please," the judge sighed, closing his eyes, "Don't waste your voice or your breath, Detective. I know my rights."

Elliot looked at her before taking the judge by the arm and leading him over to Tucker and Cragen. He gave each man a narrow-eyes look before watching them lead Stender down the hall and out of the courthouse. "Did you even know he was married?" he asked Olivia.

She shook her head. "Didn't know he had a sick kid, either," she said. "I can't imaging what that doctor put him and his wife through, all those phony exams, stem-cell treatments he knew wouldn't work, just to take their money." She bit her lip and put her hands on her hips. "You'd have done it."

"Done what?" he asked, tilting his head as he started walking slowly, leading her in the path of Tucker and Cragen.

"If someone took away the chance for you to see the man that hurt your wife and kids brought to justice," she said, and then she looked at him again. "You'd kill him."

"No," he said firmly. "I'd shake his goddamned hand." He chuckled, but his laughter faded and his smile turned into a smirk. He put on a pair of sunglasses as they walked through the front doors of the courthouse and into the sunny afternoon. "But that wouldn't happen," he said. "I'd die before I let anyone hurt my wife and kids, and, uh, my wife can protect herself. She's a pistol."

Olivia laughed and shook her head with a sigh, walking with Elliot down the steps. "That sounds so weird," she told him.

"Yeah, you'll get used to it," he said, and then he looked at her. "You, uh, you do know what this means, don't you?"

She furrowed her brow and stilled on the last stair. "What?"

He waved a finger between them. "You, me, house."

"Hey, before we even have that conversation, how about..." she began, looking up at him as they headed for their maroon sedan. "You, me, apartment, pizza." She turned away from him. "This case took too damn long, and, uh, what was it you said, once? A guy's gotta eat?" She grinned smugly as she walked away from him and got into the car.

It took a moment for it to register, but when it did, the look on his face was darkly evil. "I fucking love her," he said to no one, before he ran to the car, got into the driver's seat, and headed home.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


End file.
